


Lesson in the Matter of Souls

by scarlet_tigress



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:30:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 39,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlet_tigress/pseuds/scarlet_tigress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanada Genjiro Yukimura was the most hopelessly clueless person alive in all things having to do with romance that to merely describe the situation as being a virgin would have been a gross understatement. When Date Masamune decided to take matter into his own hands, my Master was understandably overwhelmed and, I, Sarutobi Sasuke, managed to find myself in the unenviable position as Yukimura's erstwhile sensei in the carnal arts.  It was a position of danger for me and also of temptation, Kami help us all..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I will not say that I was unaware, because to write such a thing would be utterly untrue, but perhaps my misfortunes might have been avoided if I had considered the situation in a different way. I was certainly not tasked with avoiding the mess I eventually fell into and nothing in my previous experience could have prepared me for the fateful moment when my young Master unknowingly dragged me into the sensual intrigues of the Samurai caste. In retrospect, I should have been kinder to Kasuga since her plight soon became my own and I was no more equipped to avoid it than she had been. A love affair with one's Lord may seem appealing to some, even romantic perhaps, but the truth is that such a relationship has terrible consequences. We ninja exist in a separate world from the Samurai and even if we take what the Lords are willing to spend for their own success, our people remain aloof. Separation, distance, between those who serve and their masters is essential in a society where only the strongest are recognized. I, Sasuke Sarutobi, came too close to the flame of the warrior caste and was burned for my indiscretions. Ninja believe that to serve a man is natural, so long as compensation is freely rendered. We are not vassals, we are not pets, we are independent in our own right and do not bend knee to the Samurai kings unless there is gold on the ground. This is the fundamental law the governs all nin and allows us to survive the savagery of our times. This is the law that I broke.

I bent my knee and everything else to my master without gold or silver offered in return, turning my back upon the teachings of my people, on everything that the ninja hold to be truths. I bent for him in every way imaginable and some not, bent until I was no longer the person I had been before, until I was no longer ninja. I have suffered, suffered far more than I ever deserved and the most damnable thing about it is that I am not sure if, given the option, I would have even chosen to avoid the pain. Love is truly an awful thing and love in an age of warfare even worse than the condition under other circumstances. I maintain, even now, that the lessons were never my idea and that I did everything in my power to avoid them. I was caught, as so many people are, in the web of fate and circumstance that conspires to make all of us totally miserable. Why I did not choose as a boy to offer my services to Maeda, or Chokosabe, or anyone, anyone other than Takeda, I will never know. Perhaps I am cursed, the Samurai believe that most of my kind are, and the lives of ninja are never easy. So when I say that our lessons were not in the matter of things or even of men, it is simply the truth as I am able to understand it. If they were lessons in anything, it would be in the nature of my own soul and of his, but the wisdom we gleaned is still some mystery to me. So it is that I write and remember and try to understand…

OoOoOoO

By the time he was 17 years old, it was completely obvious to everyone that my young Master, Sanada Genjiro Yukimura, was more ignorant of the physical aspect of love than even the most cloistered of maidens. Perhaps the reason was merely a product of the era in which we lived. Men fought young and died young and few thought deeply upon matters of romance. Ours was a world perpetually at war in a time when a person's hopes and dreams were made upon the battle field, a time when clever ninja like myself could become rich upon the noble aspirations of Samurai kings. Some ninja even became kings of a sort in their own right and I confess such a thing was my ambition as well. Takeda paid me well and I served him in all ways required of me, which included serving Master Yukimura as his proxy when the situation called for it. I had known my Master since he was a little child and, naturally, came to care for him as the years went by. We were somewhat close and so, of course, I noticed that at the age of 19 winters, the Tiger Cub of Kai knew absolutely nothing of human sexuality. His ignorance was so astounding that even I, Sarutobi Sasuke, began to feel a bit concerned.

It was a small worry, true, in the greater scheme of our campaigns and battles, but my Master's inexperience pertained not only to the bodies of others, but also to his own. I know he felt the urges of his maturing flesh as other boys did, but he channeled the energy into combat as if it were the most natural thing in the world. My Master thought of his body rather distantly and only when he was injured, it was a vessel for the might of his spirit and nothing more. When my Master was thirteen, some of the other men invited him to sit with them as they drank and joked about their sexual exploits, but my Master reacted rather badly to the gesture. He scolded them harshly for speaking of women so callously and returned to the practice of his weapons in a righteous fury that leveled an entire forest. Confused, our men apologized and never spoke of such things in his presence again. My Master was a noble person and he took the matter of a man's honor very seriously, most would say too seriously, and he believed the discussion of a woman's body wholly inappropriate in any setting. For these reasons, he never learned the secrets of sex from his fellows as many young men do and everyone feared enlightening him. To say he was a virgin would have been the understatement of an age.

Truly, the responsibility for his education should have then fallen to Lord Takeda Shingen as he was Yukimura's mentor and sensei in all matters. The oddity of it was that Shingen did attempt to instruct him, but his efforts were all in vain. My Lord Shingen gave Yukimura many examples of art and poetry that should have clearly conveyed to him the idea that men and women occasionally do something other than talk behind closed doors. I regret to say that my Master took the works rather literally, memorized lots of poetry about bulls and flowers, invented a few rather novel wrestling holds, and pondered the pieces without actually making the connection. As any good sensei would, Lord Shingen recognized the problem and hired a courtesan to instruct my Master in all matters carnal. The woman, in her defense, performed admirably and it was not her fault that my Master ended up learning a very lovely tea ceremony and then hiding under the parapets of Takeda castle in tears for the rest of the evening. Yukimura was uncomfortable around women anyway and the girl's patience was not infinite. After several hours of pleasant conversation that led absolutely no where the courtesan pulled him onto a futon and commanded him, in no uncertain terms, to ravish her. My Master refused her out of nerves, blamed himself for cruelly bruising her feelings, and came away from the experience with an enduring fear of women in general and courtesans in particular. He grew to be 19 without ever so much as touching a girl's hand or exchanging a heated look and Lord Shingen came to be occupied with matters far more pressing than his pupil's virginity.

I confess that I really didn't consider my Master's funny little problem to be anything too immediate myself. After all, someday my Master would marry and his wife would take the time and effort necessary to indoctrinate him in the matter of physical love, so what was to worry about? He would surely be a kind and devoted husband, if he even lived that long, and there was no point in fretting over details until the wedding night anyway. Samurai, however, have many strange customs foreign to my own people and it came to be that my young Master was caught in one such practice. Given the boy's history, I think anyone can appreciate why I was nearly in a panic the night Date Masamune, the Dragon Lord of Oshu, took my Master to his bed.

It was during the full moon festival in early autumn and all the lanterns had been lit for the festivities. The Kingdoms Oshu and Kai had enjoyed a fragile tolerance of one another since the fall of the Demon King and Lord Shingen was invited to attend the festival in Oshu as a gesture of goodwill. The whole thing was largely political, a kind of backward sort of thanks offered for the refuge given to Date's troops during the campaign. I have no doubt that Katakura was the mastermind behind all of it since I have never known Date to have much talent for diplomacy beyond that done with the sword. My Lord Shingen attended the festival readily, dressed in all his finery, with Yukimura by his side as was fitting. People drank and sang and sometime a bit past midnight, I noticed that Date and Yukimura were sitting rather closely and very deep in their cups. The two of them had been deeply engaged in conversation for the better part of three hours and practically leaning on one another as they talked, intense and utterly focused.

As I watched, Date brushed his fingers over my Master's jaw and whispered something in his ear, before smirking at him with the serpentine ferocity that had earned him the name Dragon. Date's Right Eye and most favored vassal, Kojuuro Katakura, had been watching the exchange with far more care and attention than I had and yet he made no move to halt the two young noblemen and they gripped each other and slipped away from the festivities. That was odd. Usually Katakura made it his personal mission in life to prevent Date Masamune from embarrassing himself. The man had practically raised the Lord of Oshu and took Masamune's indiscretions very personally.

I was tempted to shrug it off and inform Lord Shingen later. After all, I really thought that the two of them were going to slip away to spar since each of them was far more addicted to combat than any pleasure a mere party could offer. Still, Kojuuro Katakura's expression gave me pause and enticed me to follow Date's favored subordinate in case there might be foul play. Oshu might have currently been an ally, but just a few short seasons ago Kai had waged war with Date's army and the conflict had might have left a few bitter wounds unclosed. My Master was a difficult person to kill on any field of combat, but even the finest warrior's aren't immune from a knife in the back.

To my utter shock, Kojuuro did not go to the training fields to supervise his own young master and temper his ferocity, but instead slunk deep into Date's castle to sit protectively in front of the young Dragon's bedroom door. Perplexed, I dashed outside and found a tree with a decent view into Date's window, worrying that my Master might be in far more danger than I had originally surmised. My worst fears were soon confirmed as Date and Yukimura entered the room from a well hidden passage behind a large golden screen and the Dragon immediately set to ravishing my Master. They embraced awkwardly, and the gesture was rough and filled with the same kind of manic violence as they expressed when fighting. I watched them carefully, an arrow cocked hard in my bow and already aimed at Date's heart. As I watched the Lord of Oshu strip my Master of his kimono and trail his hands over Yukimura's inexperienced flesh, I pulled the bow taught and prepared to fire. Date lathed his tongue over Yukimura's belly, coiling my Master's long tail of sepia hair around his fingers. By the Gods, he meant to do it! They touched again, more slowly this time and I could tell that Yukimura was not being coerced against his will, but I kept the arrow in place anyway.

Perhaps I should have known better, after all it had been a part of my education. All ninja were taught of the strange things that Samurai did with and to each other for the sake of their unspoken passion. I had learned of such practices, at least in the academic sense, with the other ninja in my age group through our training, in case we were ever called upon to exploit a situation of that kind. I even received rudimentary seduction training before my sensei decided that I lacked the proper disposition for such work, even if I did have the looks, and dismissed me. Samurai engaged in the bizarre practice of anal sex, achieving penetration with the aid of lubricants, and rarely for reasons of humiliation or physical domination. Unlike certain pirates who practiced sodomy for the fear and shame the act brought to their enemies, as well as the rather notable lack of women on the open ocean, the Samurai governed their dalliances as they did everything else: with honor. While the love that the warrior lords offered to each other was by no means the same as the kind given to their wives, it was still love, and by all accounts the act was pleasurable to both parties involved. The Samurai loved each other and killed each other, but such was the contradiction of their nature.

Even if the practice was supposedly secret, I had read enough to know at least how it might work and that it happened. Thankfully, I had never been called upon to engage in the act myself, though I had spoken at length with ninja who had. They described the thing as uncomfortable and terribly intimate, more so than loving a woman, but nothing like the brutality enjoyed by some of the pirate kings. So I was not ignorant, though I sometimes wish I had been. I knew that the samurai sometimes took each other sexually, that such encounters were as much a part of the secret code of their society as kunai were of ours. My own Lord, Takeda Shingen, had lain with Kenshin when the Lord of Echigo was barely more than a boy and their intimacy colored their dealings with one another for all the years following. Regardless, I nearly fell out of my tree when Date took one of my Master's nipples into his mouth and made his intentions clear.

The One-Eyed Dragon was as much a ruffian as an aristocrat can be without permanently losing their title and NOT the kind of partner I had hoped my Master might have for his first tryst. The Dragon pulled the kimono from my Master's shoulders, pulling Yukimura roughly into his lap and I nearly let fly. The only reason I stayed my hand and spared the young Lord's life was because of how desperately my own Master clung to him. How he buried his face against the other man's throat, how he opened his mouth readily for Date's barbarian kisses. No, I did not kill him, but the Dragon of Oshu was rough in both his speech and his fighting and I worried. My Master was utterly unprepared for something like this and I didn't want him to be hurt. It wasn't like being hurt on the battlefield. My arms ached as I watched, held my arrow, and tried to decide what in the hell I was supposed to do. I worried. I worried so much that I nearly leapt out of that tree and wrenched the two of them apart, diplomacy be damned.

Looking back, I really shouldn't have been so concerned. Date was no more experienced than my own Master, even if he was infinitely more well-read. He at least had a decent idea about the mechanics of the business, if none of the finesse, and he showed himself to be a far more generous lover than anyone would have imagined. Date kissed Yukimura's cheeks, throat, and chest, even copying that bizarre habit the Western missionaries have of kissing the lips, slipping his tongue into my Master's mouth. Despite Date's rather disturbing barbarian habits, Yukimura seemed to enjoy the love play, touching the Dragon with enthusiasm if not skill. They fumbled with each other like a pair of yearling stags who've managed to get stuck in one another's antlers, fierce and far too eager, and it's a miracle no one ended up bleeding through sheer carelessness. My Master shrieked as Date touched his most intimate body, but with the roaring of the party I doubt anyone other than Katakuro and myself were able to hear him.

Date was slow and considerate, if not particularly talented, and on the whole the act was almost sweet. Their lovemaking, such as it was, reached its conclusion barely an hour later, Yukimura having released as soon as the Oshu lord entered him and Date following a few thrusts later. The two of them fell asleep in one another's arms, mumbling sweet nothings about swords and death no doubt, and slept deeply the rest of the night. I did not fall out of the tree, Kojuuro did not have to make up any clever lies and no one died.

My Master had finally managed to lose his virginity and it hadn't even taken too much alcohol. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and laughed quietly to myself for far longer than they had actually spent having sex. No explosions, no violence and barely any trauma. I certainly couldn't have hoped for better in a coupling between the Tiger Cub of Kai and the One Eyed Dragon of Oshu even if I'd had the luxury to try. Kojuuro slept outside Date's door that night and I imagine he was just as relieved as I was that Date had managed to take such a fierce lover without botching the thing irretrievably. I watched the sunrise, laughing madly to myself and wondering if I should inform Lord Shingen that his pupil had been thoroughly, if artlessly, deflowered by his much beloved rival. It was almost perfect, actually, and I was happy for my Master even if I found the idea behind the relationship rather strange. Samurai and their fierce love affairs with one another were odd anyway, but loving both life and death as dearly as they did is bound to make men peculiar in more ways than one. If the whole business could have been left at that, perhaps I might have been spared. Fate is a strange thing.

OoOoOoO

The following day my Master approached me with a huge smile on his face, cheeks flushed and golden brown eyes filled with fire. I bowed and smiled as well, hoping to stem his enthusiasm quickly so I might be able to steal a few hours of sleep before we returned to Kai.

"Sasuke! I have had the most enlightening experience! Last night it was as if the heavens opened up before me and swallowed me in their sacred fires, piercing the very substance of my soul with a revelation my unworthy eyes could scarcely comprehend! I am truly changed!" He gushed.

"Hmm, sounds exciting." I yawned.

"Excitement! Sasuke there are no words for such excitement! Such exquisite union of flesh and spirit, our bodies like a single beast with far too many teeth…!" He exclaimed, practically bouncing.

"That good, huh? I never would have thought Date Masamune would…"

"Date! He was magnificent! He truly is the dragon of his name sake and if one were to have told me how powerfully a mere man might have wrapped his dragon coils around me, how he could have melted my spirit with his flames…" Yukimura went on, obviously totally besotted.

"Yep, he was pretty good." I agreed, rubbing my eyes.

"It was like the heady joy of combat, as hot and glorious as any battle I have ever fought! Better! Even the sweetness of an enemy's defeat is paltry by comparison! Better than anything I have ever known!"

"It usually is." I sighed.

"He is truly powerful and even in memory the feel of him, of his very gaze, scalds my soul! He heated me like metal in the forge…his hands, his hips, by Kami his…his mouth!" Yukimura gushed, far too loudly in my opinion.

"I'm glad his barbarian habits did not offend you, Master." I chuckled, putting my hand lightly over his lips to quiet him a bit.

"What offense could I complain of! If anything, his skill makes my own failure all the more unbearable!" The boy wailed.

"Wait, what failure?" I asked, wondering if I had somehow missed something between one thought and the next in the moment while I was yawning.

"The Lord of Oshu deserves more than the rushed and awkward coupling I so ignorantly forced upon him last night! I was like a foal newly born and trying to stand while he…he knew everything!"

"Master, I don't really think you forced him to do anything and I assure you that he doesn't know everything…" I laughed, utterly mystified by his reaction.

"You don't understand! I am so terribly ashamed Sasuke! He wants me, wants to meet with me again and yet how can I ever face him after such a tremendous failure!" Yukimura moaned.

"Master, I know what occurred and I can tell you truthfully that you did perfectly well." I said at last, sighing.

My Master blinked at me a moment, golden brown eyes huge and filled with confusion, before breaking into a wide grin once again. I was surprised and quite unnerved by his reaction, after all most people do not like being watched while in the intimate embrace of another. Yukimura laughed aloud and pulled me into a rough hug.

"You watched us, didn't you, Sasuke!" He whispered jubilantly in my ear.

"I was concerned that there might be foul play…"

"You are truly the finest of all ninja!" He bellowed, lifting me off of the floor in a bone cracking embrace.

"Master! Put me down!" I gasped as my vertebrae shifted ominiously.

"You saw and so you know! You know everything!" He shouted.

"Yes! I do! Believe me when I tell you that the act went well and that the dragon enjoyed himself thoroughly." I gasped, struggling to escape his grip.

"Even so, he has challenged me, in matters most intimate, to reciprocate next that we meet." Yukimura said, suddenly serious as he set me down once more.

"Reciprocate?"

"Yes. Reciprocate." My Master said, raising an eyebrow meaningfully.

Apparently the One-Eyed Dragon of Oshu wanted to be on the receiving end of the experience in his next tryst with Yukimura, reversing their roles and putting my Master in control. Such a gesture was likely more a statement of mutual respect than an actual challenge, but there was no way Yukimura would see the invitation that way. As far as he was concerned, his rival had laid a battle plan onto the table and then asked if he was able. There was also the possibility that Date was curious. The sentiment was peculiar and I certainly could not imagine wanting to be penetrated by another man under any circumstance, but then again Date was an odd boy on all counts.

"Well…um…just copy his example I suppose." I supplied, shrugging.

"That's ridiculous! Would you have me bumble through something so terribly important without as much as a beacon to guide my actions and no sensei to direct me? Unthinkable! My shame would increase a thousand fold and it is unbearable already! Such a thing requires skill Sasuke, knowledge! What if I angered him and we became enemies?" Yukimura shouted.

"My Master, you already are enemies." I stated, crossing my arms.

"We share a noble rivalry, true, but I could never live if Date harbored true hatred for me! How could I even engage him in fitting combat, knowing that his malice was due to my own idiocy? What if I hurt him!?" Yumikura wailed, obviously upset.

"My Lord, the Dragon of Oshu is not a man easily hurt…" I sighed, one finger stuck deep in my ear through sheer reflex, soothing my tender hearing from the assault of his voice.

"Please Sasuke! You must help me! I cannot bear the shame of disappointing him when next we meet!" Yukimura shouted, nearly hysterical.

"Master! Get a hold of yourself! Someone will hear!" I snapped.

"Sasuke, you must teach me! Please be my sensei!" Yukimura shouted, throwing himself into an abject bow at my feet.

"Master! Stand up! Before someone sees you!" I hissed, mortified by the undignified display Yukimura was making of himself.

"But Sasuke, I have no recourse!" He moaned, tears beginning to gather in the edges of my Master's ever expressive eyes.

"Master, these skills are much like the sword and best learned with practice." I said.

Surely it was the best advice that I could easily give him and, though I would learn to regret it in the future, I still stand beside my statement. Most people learn the art of sex with their lovers or wives, exploring the other person's unique preferences, experimenting and learning together as is only natural. Additionally, counseling my young Master to practice would surely bring greater pleasure to both him and to Date, while allaying Yukimura's fears.

"Practice! Yes! That is indeed wise!" My Master shouted, striking his fist into his own palm enthusiastically.

"Yes, well, have fun." I yawned and turned to leave.

"But Sasuke! We leave for Kai in only a few hours time!" Yukimura wailed as if the time had only just occurred to him.

"Yes, and some of us wish to sleep a while before that happens…" I groaned.

"There is not enough time to practice!" He hissed, looking at me intently.

"Master, there will be plenty of time in the future…"

"No, Sasuke, no! That is not so! When next we meet…"

"What?" I asked, utterly mystified.

Yukimura sighed heavily and looked away, his face suddenly far more still and tight than I ever remember seeing him before. He bit his lip, choosing his words carefully, and I moved to kneel before him as he struggled. That is the luxury of a ninja, or any servant I suppose, to simply sit and wait while those who must make the decisions about things do so.

"The next time we meet could very well be my only chance to love him again, if the gods even grant me that and if we both survive that long. Things change so quickly and this peace we have… I cannot be foolish enough to think it will last…" Yukimura whispered, eyes fastened on some distant image visible only to him.

"Oh. Yes Master, I suppose that may be." I replied, suddenly ashamed of the flippant way I had treated him.

"I want the next time we meet to be…I want to be better, for him and for both of us really. I never feel like I have enough time…" He sighed.

"Master, I have never heard you speak this way before." I noted, taken aback.

"I was never afraid of dying before, but if I die without loving Date again…I think I would be very unhappy." He whispered.

There it was. My Master, the boy who had charged into battle without reservation since he was twelve, who commanded armies, who slew the most renowned swordsmen of our era, was afraid. He was finally forced to face his own mortality and the revelation had not happened in the steel jaws of the wars, but in the arms of a lover. I sighed. What a perfectly miserable time for Yukimura to decide to be an adult, I thought, rubbing my head and trying to formulate a reply that would sound somewhat reasonable.

"I understand your fear, Master…" I began softly.

"So you see, then! You understand now why I need your help!" He whined.

"Why me?!" I groaned.

"Well, because, it's you…"

"Master, not to be obtuse, but what does that even mean?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Well…Who else would I ask?" He asked, blinking like a fawn in the sunlight.

I honestly had no idea. Lord Shingen had already given the matter his best effort and teaching Yukimura about intimacy the way some Lords taught their students…well, I could not really picture either of them surviving the experience. Lord Shingen was a great teacher and he loved Yukimura very much, but the nature of their relationship did not lend itself terribly well to sex. That particular kind of education is best left to someone unlikely to knock you through the wall for being dense. I winced just thinking about it.

"No one I suppose." I muttered sullenly after several beats of painful silence.

"So you'll do it? You'll be my sensei?"

"If I must." I sighed.

"Thank you Sasuke! Thank you! I am honored!" He shouted, clapping his hand over his heart.

"Ugh…This is a very bad idea." I groaned.

"Sasuke! Don't be so melancholy! What could happen?" He asked brightly and I felt the Takeda army walk over my grave.

OoOoOoO

Some say that the definition of insanity is to do that same thing, time and time again, and expect a different result, but frankly I had hoped that the outcome might have been better. I procured Yukimura a large number of books from several countries, all with very fine illustrations and told him to use them for reference. My Master, ever the willing student, sat beneath the cherry tree in which I was resting and immersed himself in the resources. He was reading carefully and I was nearly drowsing, but only a few minutes had passed before the problems with this approach became painfully clear.

"Sasuke…?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't read this. It isn't in Japanese." Yukimura noted.

"You don't have to read it, just look at the pictures. It's the Kama Sutra, it's in Hindi. The pirate I bought it from said that it was immensely helpful." I yawned and a few more moments passed.

"Sasuke…?"

"What?"

"All the pictures are of men and women." Yukimura stated, pointing as if I had missed it.

"I know. Extrapolate."

"Well…I guess…" He muttered.

A few blissfully peaceful minutes passed and the cherry tree drifted a bit in the breeze. I was just drifting off again, warm in the afternoon sun and still exhausted from my last mission, when I heard my Master gasp. I smirked and hoped he had seen something that he liked. Unfortunately, I was not so lucky.

"Sasuke! Come down here!" He hissed.

"What's the matter?" I asked, poking my head down through the foliage.

"Date and I cannot do THAT." He snarled, pointing to the offending painting.

I took the book and squinted at it only to decide after several moments that I was holding it upside down. I flipped the book, but that barely helped. The position was impossible unless both parties were contortionists and even then it would have been ambitious to say the least.

"That one's a little…advanced. Look for others." I said, handing it back.

"I don't understand how I am supposed learn anything from this!" He groaned, cradling his head in his hands.

"Don't give up so easily! Just keep reading until you find something that you like." I suggested, smiling.

"Alright." He grumbled.

I sighed and wondered idly about Kasuga. Winter was coming and all ninja were required to report to their home villages on the longest night in order to receive news and celebrate the passing of another year. Kasuga would likely spend the holiday sitting at Kenshin's feet, her master totally unaware that anything important should be happening at all. Even though he loved her, even though he treated her better than his own wife, the Lord barely knew anything about her. She was not some noble lady to be kept in a gilded cage and covered in silks and yet he did keep her, despite the sin of it, he kept her tethered to his love like a falcon tied to a hunter's hand. She had been sent to kill Kenshin and ended up sleeping with the man instead, an act that placed her firmly on the kill list for her village and many of the others as well. If Kenshin had been even a fraction less feared than he was, the woman would have been taken and punished long ago for her crimes. I glanced down at my young Master, frowning at his erotic paintings, and felt a bit cold despite the softness of the weather. I was too fond of him, even then.

"Sasuke…"

"What?" I asked, forcing myself not to groan as my comfortably drifting mind was pulled awake once again.

"You said to look until I found something that I like…"

"Yes…" I replied, bemused.

"Well, what do you mean by that exactly?" He asked.

"Master, in things like this, the best thing to do is to start with what you like. If you like it, Date will probably like it too." I explained, yawning.

"Well…I like poetry?" Yukimura offered, blushing.

"No, not poetry. What you like…um…physically." I said, gesturing vaguely.

"Physically?" He asked, blinking in confusion.

"Yes, what feels good to you physically. Do whatever feels good to you to him." I said, a bit irately.

"Well, I like hot sake, that feels good it its cold outside. I like exercise too…" Yukimura said, smiling.

"Well…exercise with him, I'm sure you'll have fun…"

"Sasuke, how does exercise have anything to do with this? I exercise seven hours a day and it certainly never prepared me for the exquisite ecstasy, the divine sensuality…" Yukimura began, already heading for another long narrative of Date's sexual prowess.

"No, no, no! You've misunderstood. I mean what you like to do to yourself!" I huffed, interrupting him.

"Do…to myself?" Yukimura asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Yes, what you do to yourself for pleasure. What you do alone, late at night…" I hinted.

"Sasuke, I'm sleeping late at night just like everyone else." Yukimura said, crossing his arms, mutinous brown eyes tipped up to meet my gaze through the branches.

"What you do when you can't sleep." I practically snarled.

"Well…I practice, how is that relevant?" He shrugged, looking totally confused.

"You never do…anything else?" I asked, praying, praying to all the gods that he wasn't that innocent.

"No, it's too dark to read…"

"Master, don't you ever…um…do anything…do anything to yourself to find…um…release?" I asked, as delicately as possible.

"Release from what? Sasuke, you're being cryptic! What do you mean?" He asked, tossing the book aside.

Sighing, I slid from my comfortable perch in the cherry tree to crouch beside him. Blushing, a bit ashamed, my Master picked up the foreign book again and gently brushed the grass off of the leather cover. I sat beside him, musing for a moment, trying to decide exactly how I wanted to explain the idea of masturbation to him. No one had ever told me about the act of self-pleasuring, no one had needed to, but Yukimura had a rather different perspective on life in general than most people. Really, I should not have been surprised that he knew nothing of his own body. He barely even noticed when he was bleeding…

"Well…many people like to touch themselves in the same places that a lover would. It feels good and can be a good way to learn too, a bit like practicing the form of a martial stance or throw without a partner." I said, rather pleased with myself that I had managed to find some way to relate the thing to martial arts.

"That seems like it might be…awkward." Yukimura whispered shyly.

"No, it's quite natural."

"So, I touch…um…myself…where Date touched me and try to learn what feels the best?" He asked, wincing and looking panicked.

"Yes! Exactly!" I exclaimed, grinning and trying not to sound too relieved.

"Well…If you think it's a good idea…"

"Of course it is! Like I said, the best way to learn is to practice, ne?" I winked jovially.

"I…suppose…" Yukimura hedged, obviously a bit upset.

"Why don't you try it and see?" I suggested, smiling and escaping back up into my tree before the conversation could go any further.

OoOoOoO

He did try, I have no doubt of that, but I should have known that something as utterly cursed to total disaster as Sanada Yukimura's sexual education could never have been so easily dealt with. I was called away for several days following our first lesson, much to my relief, and I hoped that in that time he might have come to some sort of revelation. He would surely know himself better and perhaps, I thought foolishly, he might have even progressed to a stage where he no longer required my guidance.

This was not the case. In fact, if the good folk of Kai ever learn that Yukimura's rampage was due to my suggestion, I have no doubt that they will promptly have me hanged. My Master was nearly a force of nature unto himself anyway and, of course, any force of nature spiraling out of control is generally considered to be some kind of cataclysm. My ninja and I left and my Master spent the next several night engrossed in a competition with himself that, quite literally, shook the very foundations of everyone in the kingdom. That all of Takeda castle felt the force of my Master's frustration was no small thing in itself, but that was expected and both our servants and soldiers had grown accustomed to the power of his moods. For the rest of the populace, however, the days Yukimura spent trying to experiment by himself were something akin to a hurricane. Structures were destroyed, the land changed and at the end of it everyone just felt grateful to be alive. In retrospect, it was only because of Lord Shingen's unerring intuition that the kingdom managed to survive it at all.

The problem was that while I had left Yukimura with an idea of how to go about his explorations, I had not given any forethought to the problems presented by such a task. My Master managed the arousal part of the exercise most admirably, but, for whatever reason, he could not seem to manage to release aspect of the maneuver. Yukimura was a passionate person and so the mere thought of Date coupled with a shy touch was enough to fill him with ardor, but moving on from there was a bit beyond him. I had been confident that his natural human instincts would finally kick in and that his own body might finish the rest of his education for me. Why I ever thought the Yukimura even had human instincts only serves to show that I did not know him nearly as well as I thought. No human being can be knocked through walls with the regularity that my Master was and expect to live and yet I thought he might simply fumble through the art of masturbation on feel alone like the rest of humanity. Whatever my Master is, fey or god, expecting him to act like a human being was nothing less than pure idiocy.

A late night caress and a few colorful fantasies later Master found himself fully aroused for the first time and too shy and inexperienced to do much of anything about it. Being the utter martial perfectionist that he is, Yukimura's failure only made him try more aggressively, which, as any normal person knows, is an awful idea. As his sexual frustration built and grew more intolerable and the days passed, the balance of the universe, by necessity, dictated that other things must fall.

The other ninja in house Takeda's employ later informed me that by the second day of my absence, Yukimura came to be wholly consumed by some mysteriously violent hatred of all inanimate objects. First, he smashed piles of firewood into splinters, tore the stables to pieces looking for his saddle and took out an entire block of tea-houses, unintentionally, while trying to scare off an overzealous peddler. Feeling worse the following morning, my Master somehow altered the course of the local river, reduced the Takeda marketplace to veritable rubble and the crushed his favorite dojo into kindling. Despite the fact that none of this destruction was in any way malicious, the people expressed a strong desire for Yukimura to take both his strength and his moods someplace they might be less damaging to both the castle and the economy. Ever kind-hearted, my Master then attempted to spare the towns people and direct his frustration towards more appropriate targets. He destroyed all of the stone training manikins, tore dead-wood stumps out of the ground with his bare hands and leveled several large boulders at the base of the mountains into gravel as well. The demolition was less public, but no less impressive, and failed to soothe my Master in any way. I hate to think about what might have happened to the local geography if Yukimura had been allowed to continue for the entirety of my absence.

Thankfully for the residents of Kai, Lord Shingen recognized his student's unhappiness and put him through a rigorous training routine that would have surely killed a normal man. His frustration finally redirected onto the familiar goal of warrior prowess, Yukimura proceeded to train for three days without sleeping and eventually calmed himself enough to walk about the castle without smashing everything in sight. By the time I returned, Yukimura had collected some of his composure and was nearly speaking in entire sentences which, I gather, was a marked improvement from his previous state. I was told, in no uncertain terms, by the guards at the castle gate that Yukimura had ordered me to report to him at once as soon as I arrived.

Naïve to the end, I shrugged and turned towards the main reception hall only to be vigorously redirected to my Master's private chambers. Apparently, Lord Shingen had dismissed him from the Takeda court until whatever ailed him subsided enough to spare the furniture. I really should have guessed that something was amiss when the two guards, giggling with relief, half carried me to Yukimura's quarters and shoved me into the reception area before fleeing shamelessly back to the gatehouse. My Master was waiting for me, looking sleepless and slightly insane, the Kama Sutra still sitting in his lap like an omen.

"Sasuke! Thank Kami! Help me!" My Master shouted before I had even finished kneeling before him.

"Help you? With what?" I asked, confused.

"With…with…with this terrible BURNING! Can't sleep! Can't eat! Touch only makes it worse! I feel like I am in the midst of battle all the time!" He practically spat.

"Oh." I replied sheepishly.

"You are my sensei in this, you must know some way…" He began, waving a hand in the air urgently, words apparently requiring too much focus.

"Perhaps I should fetch some tea to help you relax…" I offered, blushing and feeling slightly nauseas.

"I don't WANT to relax Sasuke! I want…I want…I don't even know what I want!" He moaned.

"Master, I understand that you are frustrated…"

"FRUSTRATED! Sasuke, this is HELL!" He practically shrieked.

"…But I have a few pressing responsibilities first." I finished firmly.

"No! Surely it is nothing crucial! I need you here!" He pleaded, looking panicked.

"Master, I must report to Lord Shingen and then…" I argued, bowing once and turning to stand.

Yukimura lunged off the cushion where he had been sitting and grabbed me tightly around the waist. Yelping, I tried to turn and only succeeded in tripping over his elbow and landing in a graceless heap against him. We scuffled about a bit as I tried to stand and Yukimura tried to kneel without letting go of me until both of us managed to make it into a more or less upright position.

"Lord Shingen is expecting me!" I snapped.

"But…Sasuke!" He wailed.

"Master! I promise you that I will return in a few minutes and…and we…we will figure this out." I said, blushing hard and suddenly acutely aware of how tightly he was holding me.

"I've failed…" He cried looking a mere heartbeat away from actual tears.

"This is not a failure, its…well…an obstacle." I finished, feeling foolish and also dizzy.

What the situation was, in actuality, was a total catastrophe. I had no idea what to do, much less what to say, and Yukimura had never been the most patient of people to begin with even when he wasn't desperately close to full blown hysteria. Lord Shingen was on the other side of the castle and, even if I could manage to summon him, he was just as likely to let my Master crush the life out of me as a lesson for being stupid as he was to actually intervene. I have never been afraid of my Master, but one thing that anyone in Kai knows about Sanada Genjiro Yukimura was that he had next to no conception of his own strength.

"Master, please…You shouldn't hold me this way…" I hissed, trying to unlock the death-grip he had on my waist.

"I don't know what to do!"

"First: Let me go. Second: Get a grip on yourself!" I snapped, flicking him hard in the forehead with the sharp edges of my steel-girded gauntlets.

"Sasuke!"

"NOW!" I roared using a tone I had never once turned against him before.

Yukimura took a deep breath and nodded, releasing his hands from around me with what was obvious effort, and scooting a short distance away to sit in a disconsolate heap on the floor. I had never seen him so panicked and I felt ashamed of my own actions as well. Why the gods cursed me to be such a magnificent assassin and such a miserably deficient friend is only one of the great mysteries of my life. I could halt wars single handedly and topple kingdoms, but I could not seem to manage one lonely, passionate teenager who trusted me with the most intimate details of his life. I bowed to him again and Yukimura looked at me with shame in his eyes as well, before turning to stare murderously at his spears leaning against the wall. Oh, how I wanted to say something! Anything!

Instead, I smoothed my hair and stood, resolving to make this the most concise report I had ever delivered to Lord Shingenin my life. My hands were shaking and I could not tell if it was because I was angry with myself or anxious or simply terrified. After spending an infinite heartbeat trying regain my own composure, I moved from the room and shut the door softly behind me. A few of my own ninja were waiting in the shadows of the hall, looking both furtive and concerned, a terrible combination whenever my kind are concerned. Already I had crossed a very serious line, becoming more than merely a servant to Yukimura and my brethren were already suspicious of my behavior. I flashed them what I hoped was a nonchalant smile and turned towards Lord Shingen's audience chambers without another word.

OoOoOoO

A hot bath and an hour of excruciatingly detailed instruction delivered modestly through a Shoji screen eventually managed to remedy the situation, but by the end of the trial I was nearly as exhausted as my Master. I sat with my back against the bamboo ribbed paper and tried not to think any thoughts about body parts not my own or bathes in general. Yukimura sighed, made a few noises that sounded suspiciously like sobbing, and finished the bath without speaking. By the time he was dressed and sitting beside me, still flushed from the heat of the water and the general awkwardness of…well…everything, I thought I might be a bit hysterical myself.

"That was awful." He said, shutting his eyes.

"This was my fault, Master, I'm sorry." I said, moving to bow low before him in apology.

"I ask too much of you, Sasuke. It is I who am ashamed." He replied.

It felt like my forehead was pressed to the tatami for an age or more while both of us struggled for something to say. Finally, my Master gently hooked a finger under my chin and slowly raised my face to meet his own. He smiled at me a little, brown eyes filled with too many emotions not the least of which was shame, and then stroked a tender thumb down my cheek in a gesture so fond and familiar that it nearly stopped my heart. I knew I should pull away, remind him that such a thing was not only inappropriate but also wholly uncalled for given the nature of my failure, but his hand was so warm. Ninja rarely enjoy such a touch, something so guileless. For us, every breath and movement must have a purpose, but samurai…samurai have such strange reactions.

"Master…" I whispered.

"This is okay Sasuke, it is. This is just how learning usually goes! This is like getting knocked through the wall when I don't understand! It's exactly the same! You are a very good sensei!" He exclaimed.

"Master…I don't really think this is the same." I managed.

"It is, Sasuke. You just don't have much experience teaching. Don't worry. It's just like learning any other thing. The only difference is that this is a lesson in the matter of souls instead of the body alone." Yukimura said, grinning.

"But…" I began to argue.

He placed his thumb against my lips to silence me, his heat and closeness both unnerving and succulent. My Master's hand against my face was somehow far more familiar and electric than even the most erotic caresses of the women I had known. Like most of my kind, I occasionally seduced women for information or reveled with prostitutes when the night was too cold to sleep in the trees. Their love, love bought with coin or a lie, was nothing like the radiant affection in my Master's hand or face. I gasped and swallowed hard, tried to speak, tried to tell him to stop, but it was all worthless in the end. Despite all I knew and every possible logical conclusion I had ever drawn in my life, I leaned into his warmth and allowed myself to be soothed.

So taboo, so utterly wrong and yet gentle and pure in a way no one had ever been with me. There was no impatience or competition, no hasty fumbling or ridiculous protestations of love or lust or whatever the emotion had been in my encounters before. Yukimura merely let the weight of his hand rest against the skin of my face and, despite reason or dignity, I felt my very soul ignite in response. Slowly, but without any kind of hesitation, the Tiger Cub of Kai cradled my face close to his own and brushed his lips against his own thumb, his breath warm against my trembling mouth. I knelt before him, shaking, trying to close my eyes so that I would at least have the pretense of being uncomfortable, but even a lie of the flesh is impossible with Sanada Yukimura. He hadn't even kissed me and already my mind was utterly overwhelmed.

"You're warm Sasuke." He whispered, cocking his head.

"I'm blushing, Master." I said, my brain and mouth moving at odds with one another.

"In shame?"

"Yes…" I lied.

"Oh Sasuke, what do you have to be ashamed of?" He asked, chuckling hotly.

"I…I failed you." I managed closing my eyes at last.

"No Sasuke, I fell down today, but you were there to catch me. You always are." He sighed, lips quirking into a smile against the skin of my cheek.

Some would say that such a thing, such a blatant caress, could never be anything other than a seduction, but I profess that my Master had no clear intentions at all. He was touching me for comfort, because he had been frightened and because I was there to be touched. For him, I suspect it was the same as the times when he was thrown from his horses as a boy and I was there to wipe the dirt from his cheeks. I had bandaged his wounds and sat behind Yukimura, pressed against his back in the saddle, to rest when our given tasks had to be accomplished in kingdoms far away and my feet were tired. Such things were not peculiar for a man who had known a servant since he was a child, something like the way a Lord might consider a beloved hound, and indeed I even slept at his feet when we were in the field. So why should he think that this, a gentle embrace to comfort, was not in some way the same?

No this, this first indiscretion at the very least, it was my own failing I am certain. Perhaps the touch was more intimate, more heated than it had been before, but he was still warm from release and reacting to our conversation as any person would. I was still his friend and he was still my Master and Yukimura really had no one else to hold this way, but I nearly fainted all the same. It was not the first time we had touched and yet the contact was so spectacularly different. To accuse him failing to understand the difference, to expect him to comprehend what such a touch might mean to me was not only unfair, but outright laughable. He had no idea that the innocent press of a hand against my face could be something more than amiable affection or that a kiss against his own hand was a kiss all the same.

"I did not catch you, Master." I whispered.

"This is not warfare, Sasuke. Falling must be different too and catching as well. I am learning." His replied, his soft laughter like a breath of summer wind against my face.

We sat, pressed nearly cheek to cheek, whispering into one another's ears the way I sometimes would with my operatives when enemy ears were close. The feeling, the huddled, chilly awareness of being overheard, had somehow eclipsed the action for me before and blinded me to how utterly terrifying it was. Of course, leaning cheek to cheek with another ninja was not at all the same as being pressed against the bath-warm skin of a samurai who had masturbated for the first time to the sound of my voice.

"You should not touch me this way…" I gasped, trying to look away.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked, backing away, brown eyes wide and startled.

"No, but…" I fumbled, blushing even harder.

"Sasuke, are you ashamed again? You're blushing even more than before…" He noted, raising an eyebrow.

"I…I'm not ashamed…" I said, the terror making the truth jerk it way from my lips.

"Then what does it mean?" He asked, lips less than a breath from my own.

"I…I don't know." I replied, breathing so fast I was seeing stars.

"I blush when Date holds me, is it the same?" He asked gently, voice smooth and purely curious.

"Probably." I breathed, relieved.

He understood why I was so uncomfortable, after all he must since even the press of a maiden's hand against his own was enough to nearly send him into full blown hysteria. I sighed and tried to pull away, thinking I had perhaps escaped, that his hand against my skin would simply fall away. It was foolish of me.

"Does it feel good, then? When I hold you this way?" He whispered, moving closer.

I know I could have lied or explained or done any number of perfectly rational things to save myself from breaking a vow to my clan. Perhaps I might have even spared myself the effort and given him a good shove as I had before. Yukimura was neither stupid nor cruel and he would have understood, both the words and the gesture. Instead, I followed his succulent heat, relaxed into the exotic sincerity of his hands and whimpered, surely half mad:

"Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke knows that returning to Yukimura may mean his death, but is he prepared to endure a life without him?

"Yes."

I should have taken back that single, damning word. I could have. I could have screamed or laughed or lied and my Master would have released me in an instant with a flowery samurai apology and likely some sort of veiled threat of self-harm. A simple word, a simple sound would have been enough, but I pressed my lips tight together, swallowed against his fingers and tried not to make any noise at all. Recklessness is almost associated with noise, with roaring threats and challenges unsubstantiated by one's ability, with the clatter of shod hooves upon steep terrain. People like Date have a reputation for being reckless, people who speak loudly and like the sound of their own voices, and people like my Master who would ride down a damned titan if it offended him. A sly ninja used to killing for money and feeling nothing is anything but reckless. Reckless gets you killed, bad business by anyone's estimation and I already knew I was doomed, but it was still so strange that my greatest act of unruly disregard should be so utterly silent.

My Master sighed against my flesh, his too-warm body relaxing against my own, comfortable now that any fear of harming me had been assuaged. The sentiment was so stupid that I almost grinned and surely would have if the situation was any less vexing. It was stupid that he should care for me so much, stupid that he was worried about what I wanted when Kami knew I was more than capable of ruining my own life. In some ways, having Yukimura take me like a trophy and do what he wanted would have been easier. A rape my people can forgive, but a seduction was something else entirely. Giving into a rapist made a ninja human, but allowing a seduction made a ninja weak. I was weak in this, foolish and emotional and probably totally insane, but it was not shame that colored my cheeks or quickened my breath that night. No, there was no shame and no guilt that night, Kami help me.

His free hand moved to trace my eyebrows and the edge of my jaw, leaving tingling heat wherever he touched me. My belly was shaking, the muscles tight with fear and something deeper, something that made my mouth dry and my skin burn. Yukimura leaned closer, watching me with his large, sensitive eyes, breathing in my air as his own. The flutter in my gut spread until my heart was beating against my ribs like a maddened sparrow trapped in a darkened room. My Master touched me, held me like something cherished, fingers learning every detail of my face. I do realize that the idea of myself as anything that could be treasured is ridiculous, even now, but truthfully that was how he made me feel. Ninja do not believe in the value of a person unless it can be proven in gold or skill, but neither my wealth nor my prowess mattered in my Master's estimation. Samurai are not ninja, we do not think about things the same way. If only I had kept that small bit of clarity in all this, the course of events following that night might have been different.

As it was Yukimura traced his fingers from my jaw up to cup my cheek and slowly let the weight of his thumb rest against my lower lip in a blatant suggestion that I open my mouth for him. I hesitated, nervous, uncertain what he would do. I thought perhaps Yukimura might hold me open for a kiss as I had watched Date do with him and the idea startled me a bit. Kissing always seemed so…foreign. So I hesitated, weirdly nervous, caught in his claws. Perhaps such trepidation was uncharacteristic, but I probably would have been even more worried if I had known what he was actually going to do to me. Samurai are so strange. To this day I'm not entirely sure what it meant. All I know now is that my Master did not trust himself to kiss me at first, not when he barely knew how, not when it might be anything less than perfect. However, Date had fostered in him a fascination with a lover's mouth not restricted to barbarian lip play, as I would soon discover.

My thinking was muzzy, softened by his warmth and by my own terror. After several agonized heartbeats, I parted my lips and yielded to him, meeting my Master's eyes as he moved his thumb in against the sensitive inner slickness of my tongue. The action was gentle and very stimulating, always waiting upon my acceptance, but it shocked me all the same. My Master wanted to touch me inside my mouth and that should have been my first clue that nothing about this lesson would be anything like what I had done before. The mouth is such a casual orifice, mundane even. I had never noticed anything particularly erotic or vulnerable about a man's lips, but I trembled like a leaf in the rain as my Master's thumb slid unchallenged past my teeth. He sighed and I closed my eyes tightly, trying hard not to think about the foreign weight of the appendage against my tongue and how compromised it made me feel.

"Oh Sasuke…you're so smooth here, so warm…" He whispered, voice rough with desire.

I was frozen for a moment, the feel of my teeth against his knuckle strange and a little uncomfortable. There was vulnerability in this, both for him and for me, a kind of mutual surrender I had never known before. I flicked my tongue against him nervously, more out of reflex than any real intention, and his breath caught hard enough to make me gasp as well. The texture of his thumb was rough and stimulating against my tongue, very sexual in a way that had nothing to do with softness or femininity. It felt good if…intimate. I had already allowed him too much, done something I would never be forgiven for if anyone knew and the heavy knowledge of it made me bold. I licked him again, feeling the heat build into a low, burning ache in my center.

"Sasuke…Oh! You feel…Kami!" He breathed, blushing.

Recovering from the initial strangeness of it, I sucked him, my limbs gone soft with surrender and my foolish body warm with want despite the fear. I focused on the feel of him, the exotic taste, like sun-warm metal and mineral salt. I ignored everything, but the sensation. I was already damned and if hell was waiting I supposed that there was nothing left to be done than to try and enjoy the trip. Yukimura made a sound half between a groan and a hiss and I opened my eyes to meet his own. Brown portals, like forest pools in the sun, and just as deep filled my vision. My lips tingled and my tongue grew bolder. His fingers moved to cup my jaw, thrusting into my mouth a fraction more and the bare hint of aggression in it made me whimper. I swallowed and my Master gasped softly in surprise, the sound enough to ignite my belly and steal my breath away.

If any other nin had seen us that way, me on my knees before him doing something so blatantly submissive and obviously sexual, I would have been killed. The safety of gold or silver on the floor between us was absent and I had no information to gain by such an act; this could never be considered business. Yukimura pressed his lips to my forehead, kissing the bridge of my nose and the tender skin beneath my eyes, cupping my skull in his hand. The firm, supportive feel of those fingers, fingers that could crush a boulder into pebbles if he so chose, was thrilling. I was aroused, more so than I had ever been in my life, and all from a touch that was both bizarre and taboo. There was no way he could know that my mouth was the only outer aspect of my anatomy that no woman had ever been bold enough to touch more than in passing. I was a virgin for his caresses against my tongue, inexperienced and overwhelmed. My previous lovers were either too passive to engage in such a thing or following specific directions already established by the passage of coins from one party to another. I had never received any of the barbarian kisses Date was so fond of and the idea that putting someone else's fingers into my mouth might be erotic had, frankly, never crossed my mind.

"Is it good? Do you like this?" Yukimura asked, lips ghosting over my cheek.

Only Yukimura would bother asking someone a question with his thumb halfway down their throat. I nearly rolled my eyes. I could not answer him of course, not with words, but the tender way he stroked me made me soften my mouth for him all the same. My Master's smile against my face was so guileless and happy that I swear my heart stopped for a moment. He kissed my cheek, lips surprisingly soft, and slowly withdrew his thumb from my mouth, smearing the moisture there over my lips. The roughness of his callouses was startling against the thin skin, stimulating. I bit back a moan as Yukimura carded his other hand through my hair, his fingers against my scalp strong and shockingly pleasurable. He moved to take away the steel guard I wore around my face, touching skin usually covered in armor and sensitive with neglect.

"Master…" I whispered, the memory of him still rough and salty against my lips.

"You're beautiful, Sasuke, tiny and beautiful…" My Master whispered, moaning as I tipped my head back into his grasp.

If there were any doubt that I was not in my right mind, that should have firmly dispelled it. Any other lover who dared to refer to me as tiny, would have been ejected from my presence far more abruptly and not gently either, likely with violence and something important being broken. As it was, the sound of his voice alone was enough to send a deep shiver through my spine and the words barely mattered. With my Master I could not take offense to the odd things he said. To Yukimura I actually was tiny in a strange kind of way and the comment was merely a matter of perspective.

He saw me as small because I perched on his shoulders for leverage when we fought or on his horses for rest when we rode, even if we were nearly the same height, even if I was his senior in everything. Perhaps then it was not so much a statement of size as of proportionality. If I wanted to, I could have stood on the palm of his hand and he could have held me up as easily as one would a lantern on a nighttime stroll. My Master was infinitely stronger than I was, stronger than any human being really should be, and his body was built thickly with muscle honed for wielding heavy weaponry. My slender frame, agile and sinewy after lifetime of running and climbing must have indeed seemed petite in comparison.

"I…I'm not…That's ridiculous!" I whispered, lips still tingling from his caresses.

"I want it to be good, Sasuke. Tell me what you want…" Yukimura murmured, moving closer.

"I am not of your station, we can't…this…I… it isn't proper." I protested weakly.

"Proper?" He chuckled.

"I don't deserve…" I began, hoping for obfuscation instead of the truth.

"Don't be foolish, of course you deserve to be happy!" He replied fiercely, moving closer to cage me further in his arms.

I was not necessarily talking about happiness, more about propriety, but there was no way he could know that. Lying always works poorly with samurai in my experience, but of course I continue to try it anyway because I like to confound my own logic. Yukimura gripped my hair gently, controlling the movement of my head as he pulled me closer, pressing me to the exposed skin of his own throat. I leaned into the embrace with wordless surrender and my Master pulled me up against his chest, lifting me as easily as one would any other pet. Still holding my hair, he arched my body backwards, kissing my throat and forcing my hips to rest fully against his own. I gasped, surprised, and struggled a little. No one had ever held me this way, but I was fully caught and there was nothing to do but bend for him, bend and open my body to his touch.

The delicious heat of his lips, of his teeth, against my throat was scalding. He nipped and licked me, worrying the vulnerable skin delicately with his mouth in a way that was both careful and faintly aggressive. The thundering pleasure the action brought arched through my body like summer lightning, searing me. I was practically sitting in his lap, straddling one of his thighs, the armor I wore the only barrier between my skin and the cultured smoothness of his yukata. Even that, even the comfort of armor, would not protect me for long. The metallic click of the catches on my steel-girded gloves being released was like a warning sound, too close to that of a sword being loosened in its scabbard, and I tensed. He pulled my glove away, licking my fingers enticingly, and I nearly sprang from his lap in shock.

"Master…" I protested, trying uselessly to push him away.

"So much armor, Sasuke! It's amazing you can move so swiftly with all this. As if anyone could catch you in the first place…" Yukimura chuckled.

"I'm rather caught now." I muttered, annoyed.

"Should I release you, deadly kestrel? Are you so eager to fly?" He purred, nipping the fleshy rise of at the base of my thumb.

Of course, being the idiot that I am, I yelped at the touch and said absolutely nothing. He flicked the catches on my other glove open and my body jerked at the noise, jumping against him like a deer caught in the jaws of a wolf, even as he bent my shoulders back over his lap. I stretched for him wordlessly, arching my body like a drawn bow, belly open and exposed before him. My Master nuzzled his nose against mine, our lips almost brushing, and continued to remove my armor with positively uncanny efficiency. I had hoped my steel shell might buy me a little bit of time to come back to my damn senses, but the armor just seemed to fall away, leaving me bare, vulnerable in his arms. He undid the ties and clasps one-handed, so smoothly that only the coolness of new air against covered skin alerted me that my convenient mode of separation was quickly slipping away. That a man may know best how to undress another had, quite honestly, not been something I considered. If the thought had managed to cross my mind, perhaps I would have taken his invitation to fly while I still had the chance a bit more seriously. As it was, I barely realized it was happening, that my Master was undressing me, until his fingers were brushing against the armored jock guard I wore beneath my trousers, a piece of hear he was unfamiliar with.

"Hmmm, Sasuke…You're harder than I thought." He quipped, tapping a knuckle against the steel cup.

"I…It…Oh no…" I gasped.

"Shhh, just tell me how to take it off…" He whispered.

There was the slow slide of his hand along my spine, the taboo press of my Master's cheek against mine and the quiet gnawing terror that I had gone too far, too far to ever return. I sat against him for an infinite moment, trying to call up enough air to tell him that he was completely out of his mind and that we should stop right now and go back to doing…well, not what we had been doing before, but something else. Maybe play mahjong or contemplate poetry, something that would not feel so good or get one of us killed if anyone saw. He could not want me, not if he knew what it would mean, not if he knew that he could never keep me the way he did Date. Instead of using his hesitance to dive away and out the nearest window, like any sane ninja in the universe, I reached behind my waist to the leather straps holding the cup in place and pulled them loose.

Yukimura held his breath as the armor fell away and I bared myself for him, gave him my last surrender. For a moment we were still, breathing, close and feeling, not thinking. Then his hand moved against my intimate body, stroking me tentatively with only the cloth between us, fingers strong and curious on my vulnerable flesh. I gasped, eyes widening, shocked by the intensity of the feeling. Pleasure, like fire or driving rain, like nothing I had ever felt before moved through me and settled like a ball of molten metal in my belly. His hand played over the sensitive flesh, firm but un-threatening, and the fabric of my trousers was suddenly decidedly more abrasive and uncomfortable than it had ever been before. I was not inexperienced, but my Master's touch was so different, intentional in a way no lover from my past had ever managed, and I found myself moaning breathlessly for him as he cupped me through the cloth.

"Oh Sasuke…so hot, so hard…" Yukimura panted, fingers rubbing maddeningly between my legs.

"Master…Don't say such things…Ahh!" I stifled the noise into my hand, but the sound of it was shocking anyway.

"It feels good?" He asked softly, mouthing my ear.

"Kami…" I hissed under my breath, biting my lip so that I might manage to keep quiet.

"Don't be frightened…" My Master whispered, "I'll be careful, I won't hurt you."

"I know." I whispered, barely a sound at all, talking mostly to myself.

How strange, I thought, to be held so delicately and made to feel small by Yukimura, a Samurai Lord almost a decade younger and infinitely more sheltered than myself. I had thought of him before almost like the cub of his namesake, someone I could shelter and protect. After all, how could I think of him as anything except a child when I had known him as a boy? When I came to the kingdom of Kai in the service of Lord Shingen I was sixteen, already a man in my own right by the reckoning of my people, while Yukimura was only seven. It was hard to reconcile the boy who had cut himself on my kunai and broken his ankle trying to climb a tree after me with the man now before me, a man looking at me with lust and not a small amount of affectionate aggression. My Master, for all his inexperience, was still confident and powerful as any tiger, whether of Kai or otherwise. He made me feel as tiny as his words proclaimed me to be, like prey in the talons of a predator, and all with nothing more than a look and the touch of his hands.

Yukimura slowly allowed my body to drape down over his lap, stretching me back over his knees until my shoulders were fully resting on the tatami and my hips high, spread almost painfully over his thigh. He was breathing a little faster, but not with the same mixture of anticipation and panic that quickened my own helpless lungs. For him, there was only passion, the heat of it in his hands and in the way his pupils were swallowing the golden-brown into molten darkness. He held me, he touched me, and while some have accused me of falling, the truth is that I dove into his love. I moaned when he stroked me, bit gouges into my own hand in an effort to remain silent, writhing against the clever teasing of his fingers. My clothing fell away, like the petals from a wilting flower, and I shivered a little despite the heat practically radiating from my Master's blushing skin.

"Oh, your body is beautiful." He breathed, stroking an appreciative hand down my chest and lower to play along the edge of my trousers.

"Not really…" I hedged.

"You always say modesty is stupid." He noted with a smirk.

"I…It's not modesty, Master! Men aren't beautiful! They're just...well…stop saying it!" I hissed wondering if my face might actually ignite.

"But Sasuke you are, you're gorgeous, as lovely as the moon…" He said in an awed whisper, expression almost thoughtful and the ghosting touch of his calloused fingers over my nipples thrilling if very nearly ticklish.

"The moon is scarred, so am I…" I replied, closing my eyes and turning away.

"Your scars make you beautiful to me, I want to see more…" He practically purred, bending low over his own knees to undo the ties of my pants with his teeth like the tiger he was.

I whimpered a bit, the warmth of him almost like that of a fire, radiant and consuming. It was death, death if I allowed this, but I had gone too far already. There was no use fighting him or myself and so I lay helpless in his jaws. I did not thwart him, not even offering a token of resistance as he opened the cloth to touch intimate skin for the first time. I gasped, shaking. Pleasure arched through my body, pleasure beyond any kind that reason should allow. Yukimura's hands were roughened, made hard with callouses from his training and scars from his battles. Hands such as his had no right to still be so sensitive, to touch with such purpose and delicacy, to move so enticingly!

He touched me and my very chakra burned with ecstasy. I set my teeth into my hand and listened to the thunder of my own blood in my ears, moving in waves, cresting and breaking like a storm on the ocean with every stroke of his fingers. Yukimura was dense when it came to people, but he was an eager student and he had listened to me in the bath when touching his own body. More importantly he remembered everything that I had told him to do. Soon, I could barely remember anything except the brush of his hand and the molten way his touch made my frantic pulse race.

"Like this? Is it right…?" he asked.

"Nghh…" I moaned, too invested in not screaming and already muzzled by my own fingers to answer him properly.

He held me, caressing the rigid length of my penis from root to crown just as I had taught him, blistering pleasure spearing through me with every stroke. I wondered if it was possible to die from overstimulation. His lips were warm on my belly and my Master's hand was busy against the aching length below, cupping me and rubbing more firmly than any courtesan had ever dared, confident and bold as he was in everything. My Master slid his thumb smoothly over the slit of my shaft, collecting the warm moisture there and smearing it over the tingling skin of my erection, increasing his pace slightly. I shrieked, bucking up into his embrace, startled by the white hot intensity of the feeling. If I had any inkling of just how explosive such a touch would feel, I would certainly have chosen to teach him something else, something that he would not be tempted to use against me. Perhaps it was not the touch, shockingly erotic as it was, but merely that he was the one performing the action.

Sex loses something when performed alone, clutching a tree branch, between one endless slog towards certain death and another. It feels different when being used as a way to relieve stress, something I already knew, especially if it happens to be in the damp cold of the empty forest in the dead of night. Being with another person felt better and any idiot, other than Yukimura obviously, could have realized that. The difference, the shock, was not that I was having a mild sexual encounter with another person, but that that person's very presence seemed to set me upon a razor's edge of control. I was not in the habit of letting my guard slip in bed or anywhere else and yet I must confess that Yukimura might have pulled a blade from his belt, twirled it slowly in front of my face, and proceeded to lazily cut my throat. He could have done that, he could have done anything, and I would have been helpless. He moved me, touched me, and my wits melted. What I did alone for my own release was magnified in Yukimura's hands, made a thousand times more powerful and shattering, stealing the very thoughts from my fevered brain.

"Erghh…Master…Stop…" I pleaded, hissing around the bleeding flesh of my own hand.

"Why? You're close…" He whispered, cupping my testicles as he used his other hand to pleasure me.

"Ahhh!…Too close…Too close…" I whimpered, nails scrabbling on the tatami beneath us.

"Good." He purred against my navel.

"Master no…don't…"

He nipped my hip and pretended not to hear me; belligerent little ass. It was impossible to explain and I wasn't sure myself what the true sentiment behind the request was. I did not want him to bring me to orgasm, even if I had allowed him to undress me and lay me over his lap in a way even the most wanton whore would never allow. I wanted that last ounce of control even if every touch of his clever fingers made me tremble in the marrow of my very bones. Truly, any sense I had was totally gone, but if I came for him, in his fucking hands…Kami. Something irretrievable would be lost between us, some final barrier. At least in my own mind, the vulnerability of doing something like this with him was no less than absolutely terrifying and I was supposed to be his damn sensei! Most sensei frighten and press their students, not the other way around, and in that moment I finally understood Lord Shingen's habit of knocking him through walls. Anything less was barely sufficient against the force of stubborn will that was Sanada Yukimura.

Of course, ejaculation has nothing to do with love and I knew that and tried to convince myself that all the frantic worrying was really for nothing. Unfortunately, one act when paired with the other is nothing less than absolutely intoxicating and I think I was already addicted to him. I hissed and nudged him half-heartedly with my foot, but I was far too close to the precipice to make anything like a level headed argument or decent attempt at escape. Bull-headed as always, my Master chose to ignore my ravings and increased both his pressure and his pace until I was practically writhing out of his grasp. My belly tightened and the heavy heat intensified, building low and aching in my groin. Another stubborn flick of his thumb over the crown of my foolish cock and I came, hot tears spilling from my eyes like a scared virgin, bucking against him in ecstasy.

"Oh yes…oh yes…" He moaned, cupping me as my body contracted and spilled my seed over his waiting fingers.

"Oh no…Oh no…" I chanted, when I wasn't gasping, dizzy.

My body burned, muscles bunching into taught cords as I came for him, arching up almost painfully and without any conscious control at all. He stroked me softly, milking the sensitized flesh just as I had taught him, face flushed with desire and eyes firm with concentration. One side of his kimono had fallen down, baring the muscular rise of my Master's shoulder, and I watched the muscle ripple as his hand moved against me. Yukimura touched me until my flesh lay heavy and spent over his knees and my breathing began to slow. My limbs were still caught up in my clothes, the tatami cool and strange against my bare feet though I had no memory of when he had removed my socks.

For a moment I merely lay where I was, staring up at the ceiling without blinking, studying the wood panels with something close to paranoid fascination. My mind was a perfect blank, an empty pool in which all the fish had suddenly and inexplicably died. Yukimura sat up and studied his hand almost analytically before licking the cooling semen from his fingers like a damned cat might spilt cream. I watched him and felt a strange combination of nausea and elation, watched him grin like a siren at the taste, watched his golden brown eyes sparkle with fire. For some reason my mind instantly returned to the last courtesan I had bought and how badly she blushed when I licked my hand after fingering her. The poor girl's eyes had been huge with embarrassment and she looked so damn uncomfortable. It was horribly cute and so of course I had laughed at her. Karma is cruel. Poor little slut had been sadly underpaid. The sentiment was decidedly not as funny on the other side of the situation, I discovered. Actually watching my Master drink my cum was very much akin to the feeling one has after having the breath knocked out of their body during sparring.

Yukimura did not laugh, thank the merciless gods, or one of us would have died. He just licked and watched me, expression warm and fond, reddened lips moist and almost hungry. My Master was far more considerate than I might have been, quietly patient while I lay beneath his hands and studied the unbelievable feeling of the tears drying on my skin. Truly, his behavior was nothing less than a tribute to the ideal of samurai honor, but the moment left me flushed and speechless nonetheless. There was no mirth or cruelty, but even then I knew that the proprietary heat in my Master's eyes was dangerous and I could not help feel that he had taken something from me with that clever tongue of his.

So I breathed and swallowed, panicking silently, the metallic taste of my own blood still dripping from my hand sharp and alarming in my mouth. He smiled at me, tongue still wrapped obscenely around his own fingers, and somehow the expression held only affection and a triumphant kind of satisfaction. Of course, since samurai don't do things like molesting their ninja with any kind of malicious intentions, but all that somehow only served to make me feel worse. This was weakness, this was my own mistake and I should have just fled, but I lay like one paralyzed. I watched him and trembled, the singing heat still ricocheting through my flesh, held motionless as surely as if he had tethered me to his wrist like a tame hawk. Carefully, because I probably looked like I might just cease breathing at any moment, Yukimura lapped the pearly fluid from my belly and pressed a lingering kissed to my navel. My Master then pulled my clothing into some semblance of order over my catatonic flesh and lay down beside me with a soporific little sigh, holding me as a child might a toy. I loved him then, Kami help me.

OoOoOoO

The wind moved lazily through the treetops, stirring the glossy pines into soft waves of roiling green for as far as the eye could see, moving in waves like the endless rhythm of the summer ocean. The day was unseasonably warm and the weather fair, morning sunlight dappling through the forest below to form balmy pools of glittering light. Birds sang, squirrels fussed and far to the east a vixen was chastising her kits. The forest could not have been more sublime, more peaceful, four days following the last lesson I had given my Master in the carnal arts. So, of course, I found myself standing, perched at the very top the tallest tree in the area as was my habit, panicking silently and considering the merits of ritual suicide.

I had been carefully avoiding the castle, finding one insubstantial reason after another to try to evade Yukimura so that I could at least be murdered in peace if any of my brethren decided to punish me. Unfortunately, winter was almost upon us and I had exhausted every fathomable excuse to circumvent my Master's summons. My own operatives had returned to Kai and settled in already, leaving the forest weirdly empty of my people, a sure sign that the snows were near. After four measly days of practically strolling from one area to another on errands that could have easily waited until spring, the work was all done and I was at a loss. The business of spies grinds to a near halt as the weather cools and, already, I had completed every mission and task currently assigned as well as fruitlessly begging Lord Shingen for more work, which simply didn't exist.

Sensing my anxiety, Shingen sent me to bring a few meaningless tidings to Date in Oshu, which took less than a day to do even while dawdling and only reminded me more firmly that I was as good as dead in my own skin. Not that Date was unhappy to receive me by any means, quite the opposite, and even invited me to stay the night. For all Yukimura's youthful enthusiasm, it turned out that the Dragon was equally enamored in his own fashion and hungry for information about his lover. While his excitement made the chore mercifully longer, it was also profoundly more annoying and did nothing to soothe the churning panic in my guts even if Date did keep me out of Yukimura's clutches a few hours longer.

I arrived in Oshu in the late morning, stopped for a nap that irked my subordinates, and then meandered over to the castle knowing that the errand upon which I was sent would barely take ten minutes to complete. In that, at least I was mistaken. The Dragon accepted Shingen's news with a yawn in his usual fashion, waved his subordinates away, and then proceeded to pester me for all sorts of improper information about Yukimura for almost three hours. Date would have probably kept me longer too, all bloody night, since I was unhappily well equipped to satisfy his curiosity. The thought of staying up all night with Date masamune discussing I what position my Master slept in and whether or not he screamed Date's name when he masturbated was nearly enough to make me long for the death lurking for me in the forest. What was worse was the not matter how bizarre Date's questions, I actually did know the answers and lying is much harder when faced with a samurai king who never takes ignorance for an excuse.

Needless to say, I have been more comfortable informing warlords that everyone they know has just died than I was divulging intimate details of his lover's private habits into Date's delighted ears. At least the Dragon had not seemed suspicious about my recent fall from professionalism, which was a bonus, sort of, except that I had the nagging impression that he knew anyway and didn't mind, which was simply too peculiar to contemplate. The entire encounter became totally unbearable far before sundown, but every second of conversation felt as though it was being taken out of my very skin with a braided flail. As overjoyed as Date was with my infiltrative skill, the experience made me feel mostly like vomiting from sheer stress and I nearly killed one of my own operatives who had the misfortune of tapping me on the shoulder afterwards. Even worse, Date and his sexual snooping was my last task for the winter.

There was nothing left to do, nothing! No way left to simply outrun my indiscretions. Some people might have cried, but I had forgotten how to do so many years ago and so I merely stood high above the world, bathing in the wind and doing nothing. I could go home, to Kai, and surrender myself to the carnal appetites of a guileless teenager who could move mountains and crush boulders when he was frustrated or travel to my village for my own speedy execution. At the time, both options had considerable appeal. Despite how much I loathed myself for it, I wanted my Master to touch me again and I certainly did not want to break my promise to teach him…well…something at least. Shameless fleeing also seemed rather appropriate and my clan might forgive a one-time transgression, maybe, if I managed to be convincing and the elders were suitably intoxicated. It was also possible that they did not know, that I could just break my contract with Kai and go on about my life…It was possible, it was, but even I knew such luck was unlikely if not plain miraculous.

There was no way to know for sure and the thought of never seeing Yukimura again was very nearly enough to re-teach my numbed eyes how to cry real tears somewhere other than my Master's bed. Twelve years, twelve years I had been with him, and to just leave knowing he would surely blame himself...It made my breathe hitch ominously. As for my young Master, I shuddered to think of what he might do to the local landscape, to the country as a whole, if I just left one day and never came back. My clan has no fear of a samurai's wrath, but Yukimura's moods are NOT something to be trifled with.

So I stood, stuck on the very border of Kai, wondering which of my options (returning to my Master's arms or simply leaping from the damned tree to my death) would be less painful and expedient. I was so lost in thought, dazed really, that I never even heard Kasuga approach until she was sitting in the limbs beneath me and twirling a kunai cheekily through her fingers. I scowled.

"Sloppy, Sarutobi, that isn't like you." She smirked.

"Go away."

"Humph, perhaps I should punish you for this carelessness." She teased.

"Kill me then." I hissed, my tone far colder than I had ever used with her before.

Kasuga froze, blinking at me with her gigantic brown eyes, the woman's lovely, doll-like face a mask of shock. Any other nin might have shrugged and gone about their way or stuck a knife in my neck as reprehension for rudeness, but she merely sat, silent and watching. For a while, time passed and I bathed in the wind without thinking anything particularly cognizant. When she spoke, it was almost a shock and I might have jumped if my mind was not so utterly fixed on my own unfolding ruin.

"You're not a man so easily vexed, what troubles you?" She asked gently.

"I don't want to talk."

"Has the Dragon harmed you in some way? He is a well-meaning boy most of the time, but he can be incredibly uncouth…"

"No, no, it's nothing to do with Date…Or it is…It's complicated…" I sighed, buckling a little.

"How so?" She asked.

At that moment the sound of a horse in heavy armor crashing through the underbrush came thundering through the forest and I almost groaned aloud. The racket was so loud that Kasuga actually jumped a little, eyes gone wide with shock as the trees a bit to the west began shaking. We were deep in the forest, far from any recognizable path. No, there was no way I could possibly be so unbelievably cursed. Yukimura hardly even knew the path through the trees that the ninja took to Oshu and after all it had only been four days, surely not enough time for him to miss me…

"SASUKE?! Are you HERE?!" Yukimura shouted from the ground, obviously looking for me.

"Shit." I said quietly. Kasuga raised an eyebrow.

"SASUKE!? All the other ninja have returned! Where ARE you?!" Yukimura called, sounding minutely worried.

"Complicated, ne? Are you fighting with him?" She asked, gesturing to the ground many yards below us where my Master was currently fighting his way through the underbrush with his singular brand of bullheaded ferocity.

"No. Not fighting." I snarled, feeling sick.

"I didn't think someone could bring a horse through there…" She mused.

"No one with any sense would." I snapped softly.

"SASUKE!"

"Well, he seems to be handling it fairly well." Kasuga noted charitably, wincing only a little as the poor beast gave out a particularly pitiable whinny.

"SASUKE! Are you OKAY?!" Yukimura yelled and a fine old spruce quivered and fell to the ground.

My Master was pushing his way through the forest like some kind of mountain troll, shoving trees aside from horseback if he could not get around them. He was still several yards away, but doubtlessly coming closer and brining a path of destruction with him. Yukimura was making progress along a route any sane person would have dubbed impassable and he was doing it on a horse. Suddenly my rather limited options of anonymous escape seemed much less feasible. Kasuga's eyes widened. The trees shook as if in a terrible wind and the small creatures of the forest raced up and over our feet, fleeing as they would from a forest fire, not that I blamed them. Yukimura was easily as big a disaster as any mere natural catastrophe. The horse gave out a shrill sound that might have been a war cry as my Master crashed against the veritable wall of underbrush once again. The poor thing probably thought it was in the middle of a battle.

"It seems you have been missed." Kasuga noted as Yukimura snarled from the ground and another tree fell.

"Are you sure you won't just kill me?" I asked with a sigh.

"SASUKE!" Yukimura called.

"What is going on? You've never even said ill of him and now…Has your master hurt you in some way?" Kasuga asked, looking worried.

"No, he would never hurt me." I laughed bitterly.

"Then why are you hiding up here and letting him tear the forest to pieces?" She asked, scowling.

"SASUKE!"

"What does it matter?" I whispered, closing my eyes.

"You are being very odd today, Sarutobi." She grumbled accusingly.

"It is a very odd day."

"SASUKE! If you're angry at me, won't you at least come OUT and tell me why?!" Yukimura called.

"Why avoid him? You're being cruel! He's obviously worried about you…" Kasuga huffed tartly.

"He should be." I said, clenching my shaking hands into fists, "I'm dead already."

"SASUKE! PLEASE tell me at least that you're OKAY!"

"Dead? What do you mean dead?" Kasuga scoffed, glaring up at me through the boughs.

"Dead as you are dead." I whispered at last, moving low to crouch on the tree top and still my knees from shaking.

Most people think that Kasuga is stupid, but that is not true at all. Kasuga understands subtlety in a way other nin never will and she always thinks carefully before speaking, a talent many of our elders have yet to master. She understood immediately the implication of what I was saying and her eyes widened huge and round with shock. She looked to where Yukimura was still trying to bludgeon his way through the forest and back to me, cocking her head strangely. I met her eyes and nodded, almost imperceptibly, but she caught the meaning and blushed hotly anyway. The woman cursed a little, almost to herself, before swallowing hard and fixing her eyes back to the horizon.

"It…Is it complicated…in the same way that it is with me and Kenshin?" She asked at last, voice tight.

"Not yet, but it will be if I return to him." I managed, the tears rough in my voice if not in my eyes.

"SASUKE!"

"And if you don't return?" Kasuga offered softly.

"I might live." I replied, smiling bitterly.

"Do you love him?" She asked gently.

"I…I think I may."

"SASUKE! PLEASE!"

"Kami! I…I'm so sorry!" She gasped, placing a hand delicately over her lips.

"Are you? Are you sorry then for loving Kenshin?" I asked nastily, my own fear making me cruel.

"Sometimes." She acceded.

"SASUKE!"

"I don't want your pity." I snarled, turning away.

"You won't have anyone else's." She said evenly, "You will be in the place that eyes do not see if your clan finds out you are sharing his bed."

"SASUKE! Where ARE you!?"

"I'll be in hell. They're going to kill me for this." I snorted, a bit hysterical.

"Perhaps not. Yukimura is a young lord, but everyone knows of his power and he is Shingen's only heir. Not someone the Shinobi would choose to offend lightly, certainly not for the sake of your measly hide. After all, I managed to survive." Kasuga offered kindly.

"It isn't the same." I hissed.

"No?"

"It's worse."

"SASUKE!" Yukimura howled and another tree fell.

"I know better than anyone else what it is to love a Samurai." She sighed patiently, "I know what it costs."

"This is different, Kasuga. There is no way that my clan will let it go unpunished." I argued.

"No, but banishment is not as bad as you might think. Especially if it…if it is as you say…" Kasuga replied kindly, blushing again.

"They aren't going to banish me." I countered darkly.

"Sasuke…"

"At least you are a woman. Women are supposed to be weak. I have no excuse!" I snapped, interrupting her.

"In this, everyone is weak." She said, smiling sadly.

We sat, listening to my Master tear the forest into kindling around us, and Kasuga was silent for a very long time. I had badly misjudged her. All ninja thought of Kasuga as an emotional fool, a weakling female who fell in love with a mark, but there she sat beside me in gentle quiet when she had every right and opportunity to stick a kunai directly into my neck. Our people had slandered her so badly, made her into a kind of fable for the others, and I felt ashamed to have ever believed it. She was stronger than any of us. Strong enough to withstand years of isolation and ridicule and still have enough kindness left over to share with me. I felt like screaming, but bit my lips, caging the sound within. Yes, Kasuga lived in a way, as a beloved pet of Lord Kenshin, but that was hardly any life at all and for me even the promise of a golden cage seemed unlikely. A kunoichi loving a man instead of killing him was stupid, laughable, but a male ninja loving a man for any reason was downright deviant.

"You suffer and yet you stay with him." I said at last.

"Yes. I suffer, but all life is suffering in one way or another. My loneliness hurts, but it is nothing compared to trying to live without him. In his arms I am happy and I would rather be a happy outcast than living among our people without his love." She replied.

"SASUKE! PLEASE!" Yukimura railed.

"You sound so certain." I mused

"There is no one like Kenshin." She said and her voice was solid and true, filled with the kind of devotion normal people reserved for their gods.

Maybe it was true, maybe her Samurai lover really was as perfect as Kasuga hoped, but that didn't mean anything when it came to my own dilemma. My Master was a very good person and I loved him, but he did not actually know anything about me or my people. Even if he did, I could never be with him the way Date would and it would have been stupid to even try. I was not a Samurai and so he could only keep me, if even that, until my people came to kill me for reasons that he wouldn't even understand. The best I could hope would be to live as his pet until one or both of us died.

"What should I do?" I asked softly, feeling the tremors of Yukimura's approach in the bark beneath my feet.

"What is worse Sarutobi? Do you prefer death or a life in which you will never see him again?" She said, shrugging as if we were just talking about the weather.

"SASUKE! PLEASE! Are you even HERE?!" Yukimura bellowed, sounding more desperate than before.

"I may be dead already."

"And a single offense may be forgiven. The question is: Is the chance worth it? Was your life worth living before you met him?" Kasuga whispered as the first flash of red showed through the trees beneath us.

"I don't even remember what life was like before I met him." I confessed in a panicked whisper.

"Only you can know this, Sarutobi." Kasuga said at last.

She smiled, kindly, and then vanished off into the forest like an ether. I thought about her for a moment, probably running with every ounce of strength she had back to Kenshin, back to her master's hand. I thought about myself too, about what it would be like to serve someone other than Kai and about what my future would be like if I stayed with my young master. I tried to imagine a life in which Yukimura was just a person, just someone I had once worked with.

"SASUKE! Come BACK!" Yukimura cried, his voice booming through the forest.

I swear that I had meant to consider it, that I was planning to think well and hard about the best and most strategic course of action, but my body was already moving. Before I could stop myself, before one heartbeat even managed to catch up with the next, I was flipping through the trees towards my Master's voice. I dove like an otter into a pond, from my perch and down towards him without even a thought to slow my actions. The bells on his horse's saddle were loud in my ears and piercing in the forest like the purest sunlight is in a room full of shadows. I could see him, a glimmer of red brighter even than a cardinal's wing through the dark boughs of my home, calling for me. There might have been time to stop, to escape, but I was already running with everything I had, everything I was, back into his arms.

Samurai are unrealistic, idealistic, poetic idiots who have never known a day of hunger in their lives and yet glory in pain for the sheer intensity of it. They kill one another and then stand there like simpletons weeping over their fallen enemy's grave, convinced that only a person a man has fought with can know him completely. They believe, foolishly, that by killing a rival they have somehow proven a kind of devotion to the person and so murder is almost the same as an act of love. Samurai can almost always be trusted to take something like touch, even intimate touch, totally for granted and yet fly into a noble panic at the mere insinuation of indecency. Touch and indecency are separate for them, unrelated, but in my mind the two were really rather quite interchangeable. That touch should be lewd by its very nature, that physical contact existed only to serve ulterior motives, was grounded firmly in my mind as fact. How Yukimura could hold me and kiss me and brand himself onto my body and still have the audacity to do so believing that my opinion actually mattered is not something my people understand. Before my Master held me that, night touch was just another way to get what I wanted and the shock of realizing that Yukimura actually only wanted to pleasure me was my second lesson in all this. The first lesson of course being that leaving any part of my Master's education to chance was an invitation to magnificent disaster.


	3. Chapter 3

Danna: Japanese- 1. Master; 2. Husband (in the informal sense); 3. Patron as pertaining to Geisha; 4. Patron or Master of the House i.e. husband.  
-Note that this is the word Sasuke uses to address Yukimura in the Japanese version of the anime instead of using Taisho (general) or Joushi (boss). A word with dual meanings that implies both patronage and also has an informal domestic connotation i.e. in the way a wife may address her husband, it is interesting that the writers chose to use it instead of something more martial. 

My Master was uncharacteristically silent as we rode back to Kai, guiding the horse easily with his knees, the scarlet leather of his armored jacket warm with sunlight against my cheek. He probably wanted to talk to me or possibly apologize for destroying half the forest, maybe even interrogate me concerning my recent absence. I yawned. The truth was a chore I didn’t want to be troubled with and I had no idea what he might be thinking, but whatever it was I was more than happy for my young master to keep it to himself. For all I knew he was plotting to pull the horse into a clearing and do unspeakable and, likely embarrassing, things to me in which case silence was truly golden.  
There was no way to know, really, which his moody quiet might predict and so I did my best to ignore him and doze a little. The horse was cantering smoothly, probably relieved to be back on something almost like a path and not tearing through the underbrush with a high-strung and nigh unto psychotic demi-god on his back. I could not blame the stallion for enjoying the reprieve and the familiar smell of both the forest and Yukimura’s sweat was lulling as I rode pressed to his back. I wished the afternoon could just go on that way, riding comfortably, napping against him. The trees were already beginning to turn and lose their leaves in places, sensing the coming frost as acutely as I did. The winter was a time of idleness for both Samurai and ninja alike and I thought a bit about my own village.  
The Hokage would have begun his preparations for the season, amassing wood and dried horse dung for the fires, sealing away rice into jars. The nin would all come home on the longest night to drink and revel in their quiet and secretive way, blessing the gods of the forest for our continued safety. I shivered thinking about it, thinking about what it would feel like to spend the longest night in Kai instead, lying at my Master’s feet as I did most winter nights, as Kasuga did... Of course, it was usually my habit to endure a few hours of Yukimura’s company and then find my own entertainment for the rest of the evening. Normally, I would have spent most of my idle evenings in the taverns and pleasure houses quietly drinking or whoring with anyone who looked reasonably gullible. I inwardly cringed at the thought of doing something like that now. The idea of a pretty prostitute is really rather ruined when you’ve been in the same position and without even the decency of being paid for it. Not only that, but I had a powerful suspicion that my young Master might take exception to my nocturnal activities now that he actually had ideas of his own about of how to better fill my time.   
Riding behind him, I mused on Yukimura’s possible motivations for chasing after me and whether the possessive heat in his eyes during our last lesson might cause trouble for me in the future. Samurai are territorial, much the way unneutered tomcats are, and just as annoying. I supposed it was only natural that he felt some sort of attachment to me, but the problem was that attachment was something every ninja tries their level best to avoid. It was not unusual for me to spend many weeks away from Kai if Lord Shingen so wished or if it suited my own purposes. Even now, when my work wasn’t pressing, the idea of being kept on an invisible leash by Yukimura irked me dreadfully.  
I went where I wanted to and when I felt like it and no upstart samurai brat would have anything to say about it! Even though I had returned to him, it was not to be kept as a pet the way Kasuga was, but because I felt like enjoying his company a while longer before my own people did me in. Sitting against him in the saddle was probably only aggravating whatever foolishness was brewing in my Master’s overheated brain but, my feet were tired and I did enjoy the luxury of being able to ride back to Kai. Yes, I reasoned, the authority for my life still rested squarely with me and Yukimura would not be able to change that even if he wanted to. I dismissed the events earlier that day as some kind of anomaly. He had never gone charging off into the forest after me before and there was no reason to start now just because of one petty little hand job.   
The more I thought about it, the more irritating the entire situation seemed, and after a few more dragging moments of silence I was of half a mind to leap off the horse and back into the trees for some more much deserved sulking. What kind of person tore down half the forest looking for a lost ninja, especially one that was very much capable of taking care of his own skin? Not that ninja were ever lost to begin with, a concept my master clearly failed to understand. He probably thought of me like one might a pet hawk, getting all strange and panicky when I failed to fly back to his hand, which was utterly ridiculous. Yukimura’s moods were unsettling me and I found myself feeling agitated despite every effort to fall asleep.   
What a damnable mess I had gotten myself into, I thought, and there was still a whole winter waiting to make it all worse. I wondered what Date might be doing now, if he was lying on the floor in his rooms composing poetry or wringing the life out of some hapless spy or giving Kojuuro more gray hairs. He was probably just as territorial as Yukimura if not worse and contending with one of them meant, at least for the time being until they killed one another, dealing with both of them. Fall was on its last breath and the snows would be here soon so I assumed Date’s armor would be locked away for the season just as Yukimura’s was, but the truth was that I didn’t really know anything about what samurai did when they weren’t fighting. What would my Master want of me during the long, idle winter months?   
“Sasuke?” Yukimura asked at last, catching me in a rare moment of wakefulness as we rode.  
“Hmmm?” I muttered. So talking it was.  
“Why didn’t you come home with the other ninja?” He asked, almost timidly.  
“I was napping.” I lied smoothly.  
“You can nap at home.” He huffed petulantly.  
“Master, you forget that the forest is my home.” I sighed and felt him stiffen.  
“Kai is your home.” He said gruffly.  
“Oh? You’ve decided this I see.” I quipped, feeling defensive.  
“It is. You’ve always been in Kai.” He said with an air of royal finality he must have copied from Shingen.  
“No Master, you were just too young to remember otherwise.” I reminded him, rolling my eyes.  
“But, Sasuke! Why would you want to sleep out here in the forest when you could be home in Kai? It’s more comfortable in Kai…” He whined, the rest of the statement thankfully going unsaid.  
“I sleep where I want to, Master. And I only stay in Kai as long as Lord Shingen wills it.” I said, a bit cruelly.  
“I will it.” He muttered.  
“Oh? You object to my business in Oshu?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“No. I just don’t want you out here, running around in the woods, when you can be somewhere more comfortable.” He said, sounding completely sincere.  
“The forest is my home. You’d do best to remember that.” I said again.   
Yukimura said nothing, but I could feel him grinding his teeth as I rested against the expanse of his shoulders. Why he was worked up about the idea of me napping on a nice, sunny tree branch instead of wondering what I had been doing with Date Masamune for the past three hours, I’ll never know. I could tell that the conversation was exactly what it sounded like, that my Master was unhappy with the idea of me being away from him and in the forest, and the thought of sex had never even crossed his mind. It was bizarre. I had experience with jealous lovers, but Date could have had me in every position that damned kama sutra book contained by now and yet Yukimura was more concerned about where I chose to sleep during the winter months. Ridiculous. Yukimura had never been a terribly demanding person, but clearly something about my sleeping preferences irked him, even if I was sleeping alone. And I thought Date was weird.  
“Will you sleep in Kai when the snows come?” He asked in a whisper.  
“Probably.” I replied lazily. I knew that if I didn’t, I probably won’t survive until spring, but nothing to be lost by playing at ambivalence.  
“You will.” He ordered firmly, voice bordering on brutish.  
“Unless I want to sleep in Oshu.” I snapped into his shoulder, mostly to be mean.  
“Well…alright, that would be fine too if you must go somewhere. Better if you’re with Date than out here. I just want to know where you are.” Yukimura replied with a sigh, visibly relaxing.  
If I had been confused before, now I was absolutely dumbfounded. My Master, who had just decided to bring his claws out over the whole idea of my escaping his clutches for the winter was wholly unperturbed by the idea of me visiting his lover. The whole samurai tomcat metaphor had just backfired dramatically and I was left staring at the back of his head in total shock and not a little bit of righteous indignation. Date made no secret of his propensity for taking what he wanted and he had practically forced me to stay the night as it was.   
“Aren’t you worried he might want a lesson too?” I asked, sounding peevish even to myself.  
“Not really, he’s very good at it already. Do you think he wants to learn from you as well?” Yukimura asked, his tone as pleasant as if we were talking about the weather.  
“Maybe. He practically begged me to stay the night.” I drawled with a yawn, feeling stupid even as I said it.  
“Oh, maybe you should have, though I am glad to have you back.” Yukimura said, urging the horse into a gentle gallop, “I’d like it if you could tell me what he likes best and I’m sure you’d enjoy yourself.”  
“If you think so highly of my technique, maybe I should go see if Chosokabe or one of the other lords is in need of my services.” I hissed, jealous in the same way I had worried he would be moments before.  
Yukimura pulled the horse up sharply, causing the animal to rear violently enough to nearly unseat us, his entire body suddenly tense and quivering with anger. With a savage jerk, he guided the horse off the path and into a clearing. I was about to protest, but I was already being hauled off the horse and onto the ground in a single inhuman jerk. My Master had dismounted, dragging me down with him, too quickly for me to formulate anything more than a startled shriek. My back landed heavily against the ground and the air left my lungs in an aching whoosh. The position was not helped not at all my the fact that Yukimura was practically laying on my chest, elbow braced hard enough into my sternum, forcibly closing my lungs despite my efforts to fill them. It made taking an entire breath impossible and left me gasping. The stallion gave an incredulous whinny at the depths of human strangeness and wandered off to sulkily nibble on some grass a few yards away.   
For a few agonizing moments he just stared at me, the warm brown of his eyes fierce with some profound rage, a ruddy flush spread over his cheeks. He took a breath to speak, thought better of it, and the sound only came out as a kind of muffled growl. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in a obvious display of aggression and if he had been composed enough to make any other noises, my Master might have very well been snarling. I coughed and he moved a bit of his weight off of me, the feral expression softening into one of confusion and embarrassment.   
“Sasuke…I…” He began, biting his lip and still flushed angrily.  
“Master?” I asked when I could breathe again, raising an eyebrow.  
He lunged forward, nuzzling his nose roughly against my own, his breathing ragged and uncertain. I coughed again and tried to sit up, but he captured one of my wrists and held it fast above my head, pressing me into the ground and against his own chest. It was awkward and I could not decide if I should punch him in the throat with my free hand or hold him more tightly against myself. He was warm and the touch of his cheek against my own made what little air I had reclaimed vanish from my desperate lungs. By the gods, I was helpless when he touched me!  
“Teach me Sasuke, teach me and then I’ll know how to satisfy you. Don’t go anywhere else…” He murmured against my throat.  
“Satisfy? What are you talking about?!” I hissed, biting him sharply on the ear so that he would at least look me in the face.  
“You don’t have to go anywhere else, you don’t have to teach anyone else. Date knows already, you could go to him if I’m too foolish, and then at least you’d still be mine…” He whispered frantically, nose brushing against my own.  
“Date?!”  
“Don’t stay in the forest with the other ninja, stay in Kai and teach me, I’ll learn. Maybe we could visit Date together…?” Yukimura promised, deftly undoing the ties on my cowl and the shirt beneath with his other hand.  
“Master!” I snapped, flicking him hard in the face with my gloves.  
“I need you, I need you to teach me, Sasuke…” Yukimura said, his voice rough with emotion as his hand snaked beneath my clothes.  
“I think you’ve learned plenty enough already!” I snapped, punching him hard in the throat.  
My master was taken aback by the blow, but I should have known something as inconsequential as being struck with steel girded gloves in the windpipe would not affect Yukimura. He blinked at me a few moments, still very much in possession of one of my hands and my left nipple, before crouching back over me and locking his lips over my own. His lips were softer than I expected and warm, but I was far too flustered to think about the kiss as being in any way affectionate. I struggled, already starved of air and half smothered by his embrace as it was. Yukimura forged forward stubbornly, bruising my lips and pressing me hard into the turf. With an irate hiss, I bit his mouth savagely and he backed away with a startled yelp.  
“Did I…Do…Do something wrong?” He asked, sounding almost a bit angry and I knew it was directed against himself.  
“Yes, Master!!! Just what the FUCK was that?!” I roared, still thrashing impotently on the ground like a fish in a net beneath his knees.  
“Well…I just…” He said, blushing hotly and at least looking suitably chastised.  
“Let me go!!!” I shouted.  
“No! Not if you’ll leave again!” He cried, looking close to tears.  
“I’ll leave if I want to! My contract is not with you!” I spat cruelly.   
“No! You can’t just stay out here all winter! I need you!”   
“Master!”  
“Please, Sasuke! Just teach me to be better and I swear…I…I’ll make you happy!” Yukimura cried, striking the ground beside my head with his fist.  
The turf beside us veritably exploded with the force of his blow, spraying dirt and rocks and clods of grass everywhere. The stallion squealed and trotted a bit further away, blowing irritably through his nose. My Master’s grip on my wrist had tightened during the argument and without the protection of my steel reinforced armguards, the bones in my wrist would probably have shattered. As it was, I knew I would have a bracelet of bruises for at least a month. It hurt, but not as much as my pride, and I was reminded once again that all of this was unimaginably stupid. Yukimura was actively sobbing now, looking too much like the child I met so long ago for me to remain completely incensed with him, and I felt too foolish anyway.  
“Master… at least let go of my wrist before you break it.” I said quietly, looking away.  
“Sasuke, please don’t leave…” He whispered, even as he let go and moved back to sit on his heels contritely.  
I sprang up into a crouch, rubbing my abused forearm and trying to reclaim what was left of my dignity; a futile hope, of course. Yukimura watched me with large watery eyes, looking desperate and very young. I eyed him for a moment, but despite what I might want it to be, my hesitance was all a farce anyway. Life without him was simply too empty to contemplate. As Kasuga said, death was the kinder fate and my decision had been made hours ago when I returned to his arms. Damn her for being so wise. Fighting with him for the sake of my own stupid vanity would only get both of us hurt and I had already chosen to stay with him instead of pursuing my one decent chance of survival. My Master rubbed at his eyes like a child and extended his hand to me, almost the way a falconer would for his bird, fingers curled with both expectation and enough gentleness to invite contact.   
“Sasuke…” He whispered.  
I sighed and took his hand obediently. Yukimura released a relieved sigh. His fingers closed around mine and then he was pulling me close and into his lap, tucking my feet up beneath my body and against his waist so that I was practically kneeling on top of him as if I were the infant in all this. I bit my lip and tried to keep the uneasiness of being held to tenderly, of being made to feel so vulnerable off of my face. At least the perch was comfortable on my Master’s thigh, if embarrassing, and I tried not to think about how utterly ridiculous all of this must look.   
“I can learn.” He whispered.  
“I know, that is not why I’m angry. You do not have the authority to dictate where I go and forcing me changes nothing.” I said evenly, even though the small muscles of my jaw were trembling.  
“I don’t want to tell you where to go, Sasuke. I just want you to stay by my side!” Yukimura fussed, carding his fingers through my hair.  
“I am by your side.” I huffed, flicking his nose.  
“Well, I…I worried that I had disappointed you too much.” Yukimura confessed, blushing.  
“Master, I’m sorry I angered you.” I said finally, closing my eyes.  
“Well, I suppose I fell down again.” He muttered, looking away.  
“Not really. I threw you.” I said, trying to sound cocky.  
“You were the one on the ground…”  
“Well Master, I can’t exactly praise you for smashing my lips.” I returned archly.   
“Was it bad?” He asked tentatively, ignoring my rather poor attempt at humor.  
“Awful.” I replied with a small laugh.  
“Why? It was so nice when Date did it…” He muttered, looking upset.  
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about barbarian lip fucking.” I huffed, hoping that pleading ignorance would save me from any other such assaults.  
“I thought you knew everything?” My Master said, blinking in surprise and utter sincerity.  
“Of course not!” I snapped, flicking him with my gloves again.  
My Master took the blow, which would have easily drawn blood in anyone else, blinked like a startled puppy who’d been swatted with a harisen and then had the nerve to giggle. I scowled, but it was difficult to be stern with him when he was chortling like a three year old and trying to nuzzle the expression off of my face. I found myself laughing as well, mostly at the irony of it all, and wrapping my arms around him. One moment we were laughing on the ground like madmen, the next his lips were against my own again, but not heavy or angry as they had been before. I gasped, but the touch was so unexpectedly soft, so foreign, that I made no effort to fight him.   
My Master’s lips played over me, the tingling warmth of his caress suddenly sensual instead of combative, ticklish and stimulating in a way I had never experienced before. The hot brush of Yukimura’s breath on my mouth was enticing, the closeness of him suddenly startling and very profound. His lips moved, almost as if he were speaking silent words against my skin, and I moaned against my better judgment just to feel it.   
Encouraged, Yukimura cupped my cheek, pressing my awkwardly gasping mouth more readily against his own. The sharpened thrill of his teeth, nibbling against my lower lip, combined with the almost muscular movement of his lips was enough to set my head spinning. I responded without any conscious intention, holding him closer and moving my mouth in hesitant counterpoint. His tongue flicked out to taste me, darting over my mouth in a startling brush of moist warmth, soft against the wind chapped skin of my lips. My Master took my lower lip in his, sucking gently, flicking his tongue against me in electric little strokes of barbarian sensuality. I gasped, opening my mouth in surprise and in the next heartbeat his tongue was inside me, tangling wetly against my own. My eyes flew open as unexpected arousal suddenly pounded like molten steel through my blood at the strange pleasure of the kiss.  
He moved back, starring appreciatively at me, eyes filled with heat and a hungry kind of delight. I swallowed, casting about desperately in my own head for something to say that might gain back some ground, some clever like that might belie the stiffened hardness aching between my legs. By Kami, he would devour me yet.  
“Master…” I began and he leaned for me again, mouth closing over my own.  
Sizzling sparks of arousal skittered over my skin, raising gooseflesh on my exposed chest and the back of my neck. His tongue, so soft and agile, explored the interior of my mouth with fearless strokes until I could barely breathe for moaning. If Date, in his infinite sexual wisdom, had truly done something like this with Yukimura, it’s amazing my Master’s virginity persisted as long as it had! Every moist caress seemed to stoke the fire in my blood and burn my reason away, every touch making my quivering lips hungrier for the next.   
“Oh Sasuke…Oh…” My Master whispered before moaning and thrusting his tongue into me again.  
I could only sit, clutched in his arms, as his probing, catlike tongue stroked me where no one else had ever touched me before. He played against the sensitive edges of my teeth, pushing deep with the muscular appendage, lapping at the roof of my mouth in warm, intimate, ticklish surges. Minutes passed and I forgot to breathe, the hunger for oxygen nearly as strong as the heated desire pounding through my veins, nearly as strong as my Master’s embrace. There was power in this, power I had never experienced before and the fire roaring between us was higher even than when he had touched me more intimately. I whimpered a little, tangling myself in the damp velvet of him despite having absolutely no idea what I was doing. Sensing that I was slowly suffocating, or possibly even stifling himself, my Master backed away and allowed me a breath. I gasped roughly, eyes immediately fixing onto the dampness on his lips. Yukimura smiled.  
“Better?” He asked hopefully.  
“Um…” I replied stupidly, blinking.  
“The kiss, sensei! Was it better?” He prompted, licking his lip.  
“Is that what that was?” I asked, finally regaining an ounce of my wit.  
“Yes, though it’s not as good as Date’s…” He sighed unhappily.  
I was left wondering just what demonic powers the Dragon of Oshu possessed if he could make something feel more intense than what Yukimura had just done to me, but I was not in any hurry to belabor the point. Truthfully, it had been erotic. Maybe even too exciting and I suddenly felt a bit of empathy for the foreigners who were always trying to coax their prostitutes into trying it with them. I licked my lips and shivered at the taste still lingering there. Oh Kami, how could something so utterly bizarre feel so good? The stroking heat of his tongue seemed ingrained into the memory of my flesh the same way the weight of a kunai or the balance of my feet on a branch might be, not something I would ever be able to forget.   
“It’s odd.” I huffed, looking away.  
“I’m just not doing it right! Please let me try again!” He pleaded, gripping my shoulders.   
“No! I’m tired, Master, and we still have a long ride before we’re back in Kai!” I argued stubbornly.  
“Was I too rough?”  
“Just too…” I winced, struggling with the words with my head still ringing from his previous attempt, “…Too…Too imposing, you have to let your lover accept a touch at their own pace.”  
I felt rather pleased with myself. It was, after all, a perfectly accurate criticism of his technique and the longer I managed to drag out the discussion the more minutes I had to reign in my own boiling blood. Yukimura looked at me, the golden brown of his eyes thoughtful in the slanting afternoon sunlight, filled with warmth and also determination. Sanada Genjiro Yukimura is a very dangerous thing when he is determined.  
“I will be better,” He promised solemnly, “Let me kiss you again.”  
“Master…” I sighed.  
“Please, Sasuke,” He whispered, “I would please you.”  
The sound of his voice grew low with both sincerity and promise as a shiver ran over my sweating skin. I felt the color rising in my cheeks even as I swallowed and looked away, hoping that I did not appear as hot or flustered as I felt. My Master’s eyes watched me, dilated with want and the lids low, his gaze heavy as he pulled me closer against the hot plates of his armored body.  
“I’d be better pleased if you let me go.” I muttered sullenly.  
“I cannot,” He shook his head stubbornly, “Not until I prove myself worthy of your attentions!”  
“Master…” I began with a sigh.  
“Let me, Sasuke! I will learn to please you!” He whispered, tipping my chin down until I was forced to meet his eyes.  
“I suppose…” I began as his lips locked onto mine again.  
If anything, my Master’s second advance was less skilled than the first. He pecked my lips pleadingly with his own, the gentle touches as light as feathers on my trembling mouth, waiting upon me to advance. The touch of his tongue was teasingly brief and the feel of his teeth oddly absent. With a low snarl of need, I found myself pulling his face more fully against my own, mashing our lips together demandingly. He licked me and I opened my mouth with a moan, my foolish body desperate to feel the muscular caress of his tongue once again. By the time he was kissing me with the same abandon he had before, I was kissing him just as eagerly and loving the feel of it far too much.   
His hands crept down my back to settle rather familiarly on my buttocks, pulling me closer until I either had to open my legs and sit astride him or have my knees bashed against his armor. Yukimura held me closer, rubbing maddening circles into my hip and cupping my face against him as though we would never be parted. I was hard already, but with each barbarian touch of lips to lips I lost another bit of my control until my swollen body was full and aching. His hand crept lower, caressing me through my armored jock guard, and even though I could not feel the touch, the very memory of his hand against my flesh was nearly enough to bring me to climax then and there. We kissed and my jaw slowly began to shake, whatever reserves of stoicism I might have had depleted long ago.  
“Sasuke,” He breathed, “You’re shaking.”  
“It is a very good kiss, Master.” I admitted breathlessly, hiding my face.  
“Then I will give you another.” He said, smiling victoriously.   
I suppose the best way to describe the lesson we learned that day would be to say that not all prey is best caught with spears or arrows. Sometimes even a simple trap will suffice. He lured me, as one might a naïve bear-cub offered honey, and I fell into his arms without so much as a whimper of protest. As we rode home that night with my legs spread over his thighs and my head tucked beneath his chin it was clear to everyone that I’d been caught.   
OoOoOoO  
If the other ninja in house Takeda’s employ had been suspicious before, now they were practically alight with distrust and concern, trailing my steps as they would a criminal. Once their fears were confirmed, they would do whatever they deemed necessary to put me down like a dog that might have gone rabid in the night. They stalked about like panthers with the scent of blood in their noses, watching me behind their masks and whispering in hushed voices about my indiscretions. They were confused as to why I had fallen so and wondered, rather obviously, what the extent of my relationship with Yukimura might be and if it was consensual. Ninja are quiet folk and while no one asked my intentions directly or berated me with loud words, the confusion and disgust was there in every look not met and every forgotten honorific. My people vacillated between completely avoiding me and stalking my every movement, still uncertain of their own observations, but growing more confident with every day that passed.  
Even though I had not yet committed the ultimate sin, I knew my life as a part of the hidden kingdoms was over and my heart was heavy over the loss of my people. I was an outcast, banished from the world I’d been born in, a lonely wanderer with no home or future. The winter days passed slowly, growing steadily colder, and I allowed my Master to practice his caresses with me as he wanted even as I lamented. I taught him about what felt good and let him hone the skill of his lips and hands in the privacy of his dojo, but I stayed far away from his room and never offered to do more. With every furtive look or whispered word, my soul grieved and my feet felt heavier, but I had made my choice. Even if Yukimura was oblivious to the source of my unhappiness, he recognized that I was miserable and put all his focus into improving, thinking that his own awkwardness was the source of my mood. Nothing could have been further from the truth, however, and as my young Master’s technique grew I found myself increasingly incapable of throwing myself at him like a common whore. Feeling so wanton and helplessly aroused in his arms irked me endlessly and only served to feed my foul temper.  
As for my Master, he masturbated frequently and with increasing skill, but I knew such simple release would not satisfy him forever. Once he figured out what the hell it was, Yukimura was as insatiable in love as he was in battle and he called for me so frequently that it was a wonder he managed to accomplish anything else at all. I knew better than to suggest he take a concubine to soften the edge of his lust and when Lord Shingen made the proposal, Yukimura broke the door of the audience chamber and refused to speak with him for a week. For his passions, Yukimura proclaimed that there was only me and Date. Though spoken with the fervor of true love, it was not a sentiment I was particularly cheered to hear. As the Dragon was occupied with the administration of Oshu for at least another three months, I was alone against the inhuman onslaught of my Master’s ardor.   
Truly, I’d begun to wonder if a woman, professional or not, would even be able to handle the full force of my Master’s lust. My rather impressive collection of bruises seemed to imply otherwise. Of course Yukimura meant no harm, but in the heat of the moment it was as easy for my Master to break me as it was a child to shatter a porcelain doll and my body bore the evidence of our lessons despite his best efforts. My lips were perpetually swollen or frankly bruised, my wrists constantly in a sallow state of healing and his handprints were so evident on my ass that I was forced to bathe alone. Thankfully, nin wear masks or I would have been forced to reconcile Yukimura’s attentions with the suspicions of my kinfolk much sooner.  
As it was, keeping even the pretense of my secret became more grueling by the day, especially as my Master’s winter duties dwindled. I’d often wondered what samurai did with themselves during the snows, but Yukimura made it perfectly clear that their winter duties were not half so pressing as the warfare of the summer months. They wrote letters or poetry, studied books and managed their estates, activities which, all together, occupied approximately one tenth of my Master’s time. The pleasures of reading long, dry volumes about politics or battle strategy paled, apparently, to the delights of dallying with me and my Master finished his work faster than he had any winter before. Of course Lord Shingen prescribed him a grueling practice routine as well, which my Master cleaved to religiously, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t loved me to death already. I knew that what was left of my chastity would not survive the winter and the thought of allowing him to do to me what Date Masamune had done to him left me rattled.  
Thankfully, the nights remained warm enough to sleep in the trees, though barely, and resting in the forest branches instead of at his feet served the dual purpose of giving me the space I needed to assess my new situation and keeping my kin off-balance. I was not truly a ninja anymore, but the longer I could keep my people from guessing the extent of my humiliation, the longer I could enjoy breathing. Already though, there was frost on my eyelashes in the mornings and my gear was insufficiently warm for me to sleep through the night without drinking strong sake first. I’d always enjoyed spirits, but toasting hot sake in a brothel with my operatives and drinking alone on a chilly tree branch are too very different things. Before long, I was drinking too much and falling off my tree branch as frequently as I slept on it. Usually, I would have found my way into Yukimura’s room and huddled at the foot of his futon for the coldest hours of the night or in the barracks with the other nin. One option had too much appeal and the other none at all.   
So it was that I found myself quite drunk and shivering up in the branches of an ancient pine on the night when my Master finally took matters into his own hands. The weather had been miserable for several days, but I’d endured by napping in the dojo or the stable during the day so I could spare the fatigue to stay in the trees at night. A bit past midnight, snow began to fall and I was still wide awake to curse my misfortunes. I had spent nights outside in the snow before, but not for many years and even as a boy it was not an experience I enjoyed. The cold was not quite extreme enough to kill, at least not as long as I stayed moving, but sleeping was out of the question unless I wanted to slip away into hypothermia. As the downy white began to collect on the tree branches and my hair, I shook myself and stood, stretching in preparation for a long night of exercise. I’d just finished my first set of pull-ups when, to my horror, I heard my Master’s voice.  
“Sasuke!” Yukimura called, leaning out of his bedroom window and shouting for me as one might a recalcitrant cat.  
I froze, hoping that my cold addled brain was playing tricks on me. I cursed softly as he called again, louder. Why, after receiving no response, my Master chose to stand at his window shouting into the night instead of searching for me elsewhere or giving up entirely and going back to bed like a normal person, I’ll never know. I always slept close to my Master’s room, mostly because there were many convenient trees and also because I had a healthy level of paranoia concerning assassins around the heir to the Takeda kingdom. It was a habit I was learning to regret. Breath pluming in the frigid air, my Master called out for me again, sounding concerned.   
“Sasuke!?” He called, looking out into the trees.  
The worry in his voice gave me pause, but I realized what it would mean if I went to him now, what kinds of things he might have in mind to do to me. The hour was late and Lord Shingen had gone to “visit” with Lord Kenshin for the week so Yukimura had the palace mostly to himself, an intimidating thought even under the best of circumstances. I had seen what he was capable of when he couldn’t find me and I doubted the buildings would suffer his concern as gracefully as the forest had. Even so, I was of half a mind to ignore him and continue sulking in my tree with the snow and the sake, but my Master is nothing if not persistent. He called for me, again and again, until I’m sure he’d managed to wake the entire compound. Wincing in annoyance, I moved out onto the edge of the tree, just above the lintel of his bedroom window and scowled down at him.  
“Master, you are being loud.” I snapped.  
“Sasuke!” He shouted delightedly, tipping his smiling face up to meet me.  
My Master was dressed for bed, wearing a simple yukata and probably nothing else, eyes huge and relieved as they met my own in the darkness. I yawned, trying to look casual even though the effort was probably wasted. No doubt he could barely see me in the darkness, but as I crouched lower on the branch above him my Master’s expression softened a fraction further.  
“What do you want of me, Master. I was sleeping.” I huffed, blushing to gaze upon him even as I grumbled.  
“How can anyone sleep in this weather? It’s too cold, Sasuke. Come sleep inside.” Yukimura invited, softer this time.  
“I’m perfectly happy sleeping in the forest, it’s what ninja do.” I argued.  
“That’s ridiculous! All the other ninja are in the barracks!” He exclaimed, rather too correctly.  
“Master…” I sighed.  
“Sasuke, come in where it’s warm.” He said, the worry returning to his face.  
With another heavy sigh, this time of defeat instead of exasperation, I dropped from the branch and easily swung myself into his bedroom. My Master shivered a bit as the chilly air brushed him and locked the window closed, stoking the coals in his fire pit a bit higher and adding some more wood. The heat felt delicious and if I hadn’t been so busy watching the graceful way he moved in the casual drapes of his kimono, I might have fallen asleep on the floor where I crouched. Once he was satisfied with the state of the fire, Yukimura turned towards me and reached for my armor. I let him, too tired of pretenses to hold onto something so petty.  
“Kami, Sasuke! There’s frost on your armor! You must be freezing!” His hissed as he touched my faceguard.   
“I’m fine.” I argued sullenly as he stripped the icy steel away.  
“You don’t have to stay out there in the cold, you can always come here. Your face is red with it too…” Yukimura muttered, rubbing my cheeks with his palms.  
“It’s just the snow…” I murmured, biting my lip, knowing the blush was only partly due to the cold.  
I kept my eyes turned away from him, but I couldn’t quite muffle the soft whimper of relief that escaped me as the ice-crusted steel was removed from my body. Yukimura followed his hands with his lips, his kisses hot like brands pressed against my cold flesh as my clothing followed the armor in a discarded heap on the floor. Soon I knelt before him in only my under clothes, blushing hotly and still shivering. Yukimura pulled a cotton yukata from his closet and threw it over my shoulders, the warmth of the cloth lovely compared to the damp chill of my own clothes.  
“You’re too cold, Sasuke.” He said, shaking his head in worry.  
“I’ll be warm soon, Master…” I hedged.  
“Let’s have a bath.” He suggested.  
“Um…” I tried as he bounced up onto the balls of his feet and ordered the servants sleeping in the hall to boil the water, “That isn’t necessary.”  
“The hot water will feel good and warm you up faster, besides I haven’t bathed yet tonight.” He said agreeably.  
“You haven’t bathed yet, even at this hour?” I asked dubiously, “Master, are you always so filthy when Lord Shingen is away?”  
“I’ve been too worried about you.” He confessed, shrugging and ignoring the barb.  
Truthfully, if I hadn’t already drunk so much damn sake, I might have been able to come up with a better argument against such an obviously stupid idea. As it was, my mind was too muddled and I let Yukimura have his way, both in the bath and beforehand. He pulled me into his lap, opening his kimono enough to hold both of us, and the feel of his naked skin against my own chilled flesh was more than a little thrilling. As I suspected, he was not wearing any undergarments and the rigid length of him against my belly was nearly enough to make me swoon. My Master touched my naked flesh frequently, but usually remained clothed himself and being pressed against the warm expanse of his chest was lulling in a way I hadn’t anticipated. His nipples were an appealing shade of doe brown and soft in the warmth of the room, barely an inch from my lips.   
“Warmer?” Yukimura asked.  
“Mmmhmmm…” I purred.  
“Your body is too cold and I was right to fear for you. I don’t care what you say!” My Master said, sounding mildly petulant.  
“All ninja sleep in the trees when they feel restless, my Master. You samurai are too delicate.” I quipped.  
“I don’t believe you.” He whispered.  
“Why not?” I asked, suddenly fearful that another of my kind might have spoken to him.  
“None of the other ninja act this way and it’s not what you preferred before. Sasuke, you’ve been acting so strangely lately.” Yukimura accused, the tremor in his jaw giving lie to his casual tone.  
“Unusual?” I asked, closing my eyes.  
“You never speak unless spoken to and your face is so empty of late. What troubles you?” My Master asked gently.  
“Nothing you should concern yourself with, Master.” I sighed.  
“I am concerned!” He whined, “All you do during the day is drink or sleep and at night, you’d rather freeze to death than come into my arms!”  
“Master, don’t be melodramatic.” I grunted, rolling my eyes.  
“You avoid my rooms and only come to me when I call for you! No matter what I do, you run from me! Is my company so disdainful?” Yukimura asked, clearly upset.  
I winced. All he said was perfectly true, but I never expected him to be so damned observant and, while it made perfect sense given my behavior, the conclusion my young Master had come to was completely wrong. I did not disdain him, far from it, if anything I loved him too much. My mind whirred to life as I tried to find a reasonable excuse for my moping that would not give away my problems with the other ninja or leave Yukimura feeling rejected. I lied to him on reflex and it felt ugly, but the truth was too uncomfortable and my young Master would only blame himself if he knew the true reason for my sorrow.  
“Oh, Master,” I laughed sadly, “That is not the case at all.”  
“Then what is it? Please, Sasuke, tell me the truth! Are you in danger? Are you grieving?” Yukimura asked, arms tightening around me.  
“It’s just that you’re progressing in your training so much faster than I expected and my instruction does not come fast enough! It’s put me a bit off-balance and I’ve been trying to prepare more lessons, but it takes up so much of my time. I never get to sleep and my mood has been poor because of the fatigue.” I explained slyly.   
“But…you’ve started drinking so much…” He argued, biting his lip uncertainly.  
“I always drink more in winter, Master. The sake feels especially good in cold weather, don’t you think so too?” I asked, facing him once I’d managed to compose my features.  
“Well, yes, but…” Yukimura said, looking slightly flustered now that I’d already maneuvered him into agreeing with me.  
“I drank the same way last year, you just don’t remember.” I said, pressing a playful kiss to his nose.  
“Lord Shingen does say that my memory is very poor, but…” Yukimura admitted, cupping my face in his hands.   
“But?” I quipped raising an eyebrow.  
“But I feel that you are sad.” He said at last, looking away.  
I moved up against him, meeting his lips instead of filling the precious air between us with more lies. My Master gasped in surprise at the forwardness of my behavior, but he was young and already filled with desire just from holding me, and soon he was returning the kiss eagerly. The irony of it was that I was purposefully distracting him with something he had taught to me, but I did have a little bedroom training and I decided that now was the time to use it or have all my secrets stolen. I licked his lips and then moved down the column of his throat, stroking him with my lips the way I would a target I was trying to seduce. As his breath quickened, I whispered to him that everything was fine and that there was nothing else for him to worry over. I crooned to him the way I had when he was a child crying over my wounds and he responded as easily as he had then, any darker thoughts driven from his mind.   
“S…Sasuke!” He exclaimed, blushing brightly as I turned the full force of what little training I’d received against him.   
“Oh, Master! I love the sound of your voice…” I moaned, moving my hand to cup him.  
“Oh…Oh Kami!” Yukimura swore, swallowing hard.  
For the first time in all my life, I wasn’t simply saying words to entice my partner out of their senses or to gain information from an enemy. The sentiment was simply the truth and the warmth of it somehow chased away my lies. I loved him. I loved the color of his eyes and the way he moved, the rough callouses on his hands and the scars on his body. I loved all of it and I told him so, so softly I doubt he could even hear me, whispering the words against his skin as I stroked the hot flesh of his intimate body.   
Even though Yukimura was a man and I was woefully inexperienced with pleasing the male body, I used the same touched I had on myself and Yukimura responded easily to every caress. I bent my mouth to his chest, taking his nipple between my teeth and sucking as gently as I would with a woman. My Master practically shrieked in ecstasy and thrust against my fingers with enough force that he practically sprained them, the hand he’d been resting against my skull quivering.   
“Sasuke! What…how are you doing that?!” Yukimura gasped.  
“I will teach you, Master.” I promised, enjoying the pulsing velvet of his penis in my hands.  
The male organ had never seemed terribly mysterious to me, but I found myself exploring every vein and ridge of my Master’s body, wondering vaguely when he’d gotten so big. There was warm moisture gathering at the tip and I used it to lubricate my palm and quicken the pace. He moaned as I lapped at the sensitive peak of his nipple, taking it gently between my teeth and holding it without applying any pressure, something a courtesan had once taught me to do. Yukimura gasped and released with a strangled cry, the hot liquid gushing generously over my fingers.   
“Sasuke, you…you are very skilled.” Yukimura said, swallowing hard as he tried to catch his breath.  
“Not really, but I’ll teach you what I can.” I said, feeling better now that I’d exerted a bit of control.  
The feeling of authority was fleeting, however. My hand was coated in Yukimura’s semen and I really had no idea what to do with it. There was no snow, or damp grass to clean with and his clothing was far too fine to soil with something just for the sake of laziness. My mind returned the first time he had touched me and the obvious pleasure with which my Master drank my cum and any feeling of normalcy left my mind in a flash. I’d never tasted a man’s ejaculate before, dear gods why would I, and the idea left me feeling simultaneously aroused and nauseated. Needless to say, that is a very unappealing combination. The girls who’d swallowed my semen in the past had never looked particularly perturbed and I knew it wasn’t poisonous, but there was something too weird about the idea.   
My own people believed that a person’s fluids held a portion of their power and that by ingesting them a ninja risked both harm from the energy being consumed and a kind of semi-possession by the person whose body they’d taken into their own. Ninja women might engage in oral sex, but they never swallowed and only allowed a partner to ejaculate within them if they wanted to become pregnant. The most powerful jutsu was drawn with blood and spitting was considered the same as casting a curse. Drinking a person’s excretions was something taboo, an act one only engaged in with another person if they meant to form an unbreakable bond, something that all ninja tried to avoid as best they could. In the same way, my people viewed the bond between a mother and an infant to be utterly unalienable. For that reason, they found the samurai practice of adoption vaguely distasteful. When a person’s mother died, it was said that a bit of their soul died with her.   
Samurai, of course, had no such ideas and some even drank the blood of their fallen enemies for no other reason than because it pleased them to dishonor the dead. Date and Yukimura both loved the practice of kissing and showed no compunction about licking sweat from one another’s bodies, which was just as gross. Yukimura watched me, his eyes heavy with satisfaction, but still curious as I panicked. After several endless moments of fevered contemplation, I reached out my tongue and let a few drops of my Master’s essence drip onto it. The taste was salty and bitter and a bit like foreign beer, which I’d never quite found drinkable, but not nearly as repulsive as I’d feared. The heavy musk of Yukimura’s scent in the cum was familiar to me and more pleasing than I’d expected, and soon I was drinking up the rest of it without a second thought. He already owned me, what curse did I have to fear?   
I lapped my fingers clean and felt my own arousal build, just as the servants announced that the bath was ready from outside the door and nearly startled me out of my wits. If he noticed my discomfort, my Master said nothing. Yukimura picked me up as though I weighed no more than an underfed puppy and carried me to his private bathing room as one would a child that had crept out of bed. I rarely had the opportunity for a hot bath that was not taken in a spring and doing so in the privacy of Yukimura’s quarters made me freshly nervous, especially because I was already too inebriated and aroused to think properly. Lord Takeda Shingen had taken Lord Kenshin’s virginity in a hot spring and the same fate seemed to be practically waiting for me in my Master’s bath. With a happy sigh, Yukimura set me gently on my feet, which was probably a good thing because I felt suddenly dizzy with the implications of what I’d set into motion.  
“Go ahead, Master. I’m too tired anyway.” I said, trying to sneak back into the bedroom.  
“Unthinkable! How could I enjoy the pleasure of a hot bath knowing you’re still so cold!” He exclaimed fiercely.  
“Actually, I’m no longer cold. At all.” I said truthfully.  
“Come now, Sasuke, the heat will do you good and I wouldn’t let you fall asleep!” I proclaimed as he dropped the yukata from his shoulders.  
“That,” I muttered, “Is not my concern.”  
Yukimura set to washing himself on one of the low stools set out for that purpose and even though I was left to either stand in the doorway or follow his example. The room was dark, but not nearly as dark as the public bath houses I had visited before, and I felt slightly bashful stripping in front of him, which was utterly stupid. Tiny porcelain lamps were gathered along the edges of the tub and they gave off a warm and forgiving light that flickered in the steam rising from the bath as if mocking my courage. After another moment of useless hesitation, I sighed and yanked the borrowed yukata from my own shoulders and the undergarments from my hips with an indignant huff.   
There was only one stool so I settled myself on the wood floor at Yukimura’s feet and began scrubbing with the soapy sponge kept in the bucket just to the side of the soaking tub. For a while, I was permitted to keep my own council and wash as efficiently as I always did, but I could not ignore my Master’s presence for long. I almost shrieked aloud when my Yukimura’s soapy hands touched me and began methodically washing my hair without so much as a whisper of warning. No one had ever touched me that way and at first the intimacy of it made me uncomfortable, but only a few heartbeats passed before I was relaxing completely into his ministrations. Yukimura bent to the task with the same enthusiasm as he would have any other, fingers working against my skull in shockingly pleasurable circles, and he was very good at it. The feel of his hands against my scalp, massaging with the perfect combination of pressure and friction, was nearly enough to steal my breath away even after the lewdness of our previous activities.   
“You have the most beautiful hair, Sasuke.” Yukimura murmured and for once I did not argue with him.  
“I’m glad it pleases you, Master,” I sighed, “If it pleases you enough to do this, then I might even let it grow longer.”  
“Does it feel good?” He asked, rubbing behind my ears.  
“Hmm…If you do this for Date, I think he’ll be your willing slave forever.” I purred.  
“Sasuke, you tease too much.” My Master laughed.   
Yukimura laughed softly for many moments in the misty air, thinking I spoke in jest, but I truly could not recall anything feeling as good as the way he washed my hair. My thick chestnut mane, the product of questionable parentage as far as my absent father was concerned, was one of my better features. In fact, my hair was the very thing that first caught the eyes of my sensei and convinced him of my potential for seduction training. Lustrous and almost metallic looking in the right kind of light, it was almost more like a fine horse’s coat than human hair. Countless women had exclaimed over the strange color and texture, so I was not unaware of my own appeal, but somehow Yukimura’s praise meant more to me. His compliments were so guileless, so sincere, that it was impossible to simply dismiss him.   
We rinsed and moved into the tub, which had clearly been designed to accommodate one man comfortably and two only with careful maneuvering. I ended up sitting sideways with my legs extended over my Master’s lap, which was not the most comfortable position, but the water was luxuriously warm and I was too relaxed from the massage to fuss much. As for Yukimura, he seemed utterly content, leaning back against the edge of the tub and studying the darkness of the ceiling. He rubbed my feet a bit and asked a few questions about some of the things I had done with him earlier, frowning a slightly when I told him that I’d learned about nipple play from a prostitute. We talked a bit and the mood was comfortable, relaxing in a way that I never thought I could be with him, and certainly better than the evening I had planned for myself alone in the snow.   
The water was warm and for once I felt that I could simply be myself without worrying about who might be observing my behavior or what they might think of my choices. My Master’s closeness was both familiar and stirring and I was still half hard, but too cozy to be bothered by it. Despite his earlier promise, I was nearly drowsing by the time he pulled me fully into his lap and began stroking my penis to full rigidity once again. I moaned, winding my arms willingly around his neck, thinking muzzily about my earlier foreboding and wondering if penetration would really hurt as much as I thought it might. Yukimura nipped my throat and moved lower, mouthing my nipples in a rough approximation of what I had done before.  
I can’t say that I was particularly surprised since we were both naked and his interest had been piqued by my earlier attentions, but the skill with which he licked me was surprising, sending little shocks of heat ricocheting into my belly with every stroke. He licked softly, using the flat of his tongue, which felt both ticklish and erotic. I giggled softly and he paused.  
“Too light?” He asked thickly, kissing my jaw.  
“No, it’s fine, just move more slowly.” I instructed, gasping when his tongue captured my nipple again.   
“Like this?” He whispered.  
I gasped, arching up into his mouth on reflex, shocked by how deeply the act thrilled me. I have had a set of nipples my entire life and somehow I managed to overlook the fact that having them slowly suckled by a lover was one of the most strangely pleasurable experiences this world offered. It was like Yukimura discovered, with my own guidance I might add, some new part of my body that I’d never even been aware I possessed. By the time I felt his teeth, the pleasure was so intense, so mind numbingly exquisite that I could have probably come from the sensation alone! I made a mental note to stop teaching him things that I had learned from whores since, clearly, the women knew what they were talking about and their skills were far too dangerous in Yukimura’s hands.  
“Ow!” I hissed as his teeth pinched the tender skin too roughly.  
“I’ll be more gentle.” Yukimura promised as he turned to my other nipple without even a hint of hesitation.  
“Don’t use your teeth unless you can control how much pressure you exert!” I snapped, slapping his cheek lightly.  
My Master nodded and returned to the ravishment of my chest with renewed determination, playing his teeth across the tender flesh in stirring counterpoint to the softness of his tongue. I leaned back into his hands, my spine bending over his lap, as one of his hands came to rest on the naked flesh of my buttock. My belly twitched as the position brought his arousal into contact with my own and when he thrust against me, I practically screamed as the scorching ecstasy that raced through my veins. Yukimura was hard again and the velvety feel of him beneath the water, moving buoyantly against me, was enough to tighten my testicles and bring me to the very edge of climax. My Master only had to cage our erections within the ring of his fingers for a moment before my foolish body tightened and spilled my essence into the water around us.  
My vision seemed hazy, softened by the thundering pleasure still echoing through my belly, but Yukimura was not done with me yet. He turned me until my back was pressed against the muscular hardness of his chest, holding my nipples delicately in his fingers and thrusting rather prophetically against the curve of my ass. I moaned and ground back against him, all awareness of how unbelievably risky such an action might be erased from my fevered thoughts. I had cum, but my body still felt taught with pleasure as we moved and the rhythm he used was irresistible. When he released against me, I knew with heavy certainty that I had fallen yet again, that I would never stray from his hand again. That night, for the second time since our lessons began, I slept with my Master. I shared his bed not as a loyal hound guarding his feet, but clasped in his arms, skin to skin, sobbing softly into his hair.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to all the extremely, unbelievably patient readers who have kept this psychotic little story on their radar despite having to wait an entire year. This next piece of insanity if purely for you! Thank you for the encouragement, the interest and just being supportive. Enjoy!

 

Sleeping, waking,   
And then giving a great yawn   
The cat goes out for lovemaking  
\-----------Kobayashi Issa 

Winter is the season of cold, of frost and death, and yet for me that winter was more balmy and temperate than even the softest of summers, alight with passion and the fires of my own undoing. My Master devoted himself utterly to my pleasure and the question of whether his attentions were for the benefit of his education or my own masochism remained firmly within my own ruminations. Why talk about useless things? I was a man living on borrowed time and the world spun outside my Master’s rooms, alight with politics and bruised cultural values and, of course, impending murder. I, however, forgot to care. No one remembers being born, but one can only assume that it is a profoundly painful process, and I shrugged to myself and assumed that dying would be the same. I hid behind my Master’s sleeves, ignored the summons that managed to sneak into our private sanctuary and gorged myself on the sweetness of real love like a vagabond dying of starvation instead of an outcast suffering for his own indiscretion.  
When he kissed me, the weight of this new life as a hooded bird, perching blind on my falconer’s hand, was incinerated by the warmth of his lips. Even my impending death, as cold and real as winter itself, was nothing in comparison to the increasingly unbearable love I felt for my Master. I’d never been in love before and it is a profoundly terrifying experience. When my Master went to train, I clung to his discarded kimono or burrowed into his sheets to chase the last fleeting scent of him. When we ate together, I could barely focus on the food without being completely distracted by the way Yukimura held his chopsticks or the mere rapture of his company. I was obsessed, maddened, not to mention deeply ill with the kind of debilitating psychological ailment only the best and most suicidal poets have ever truly described. Yukimura was with me in my breath and the rhythm of my heartbeat, as present with me as my own thoughts. My soul cried for his love shamelessly as my body learned his scent and texture, as I yielded ever further to his touch.  
After a month I began losing weight and after another Yukimura called for a physician who examined my hands and my mouth and announced that I probably needed to eat more red meat and get a little sun. Yukimura, naturally, took this to mean that I should be presented with an entire side of beef any time I looked mildly peckish and that it was his sacred duty to take me outside to his private garden for our lessons any time the weather was warm. Until you have been shamelessly undressed by an exuberant teenager who wants to put his tongue into your mouth under the noon-day sun, you cannot possibly understand the complete absurdity of my situation. And worse, despite the risk of being seen, not to mention neatly murdered with a few well-aimed arrows, I let him.   
I yielded to his copied barbarian kisses regardless of where we were, and despite the lingering oddness of the sensation, because to miss one seemed almost like a tragedy. My days were numbered, I was marked, and every minute with my Master seemed too sweet to waste. I realize that all this sounds insane and it was, completely. I was out of my mind, a raving lunatic, and the most alarming part of it all was that I wouldn’t have traded the experience for anything else. If my own ferocious, kunoichi mother, may the gods protect her spirit, had come charging through the window to find me moaning like a woman in Yukimura’s arms I’m not even sure I would have been completely ashamed. If my Hokage promised me a full pardon along with pouch full of gold if only I would put my clothes back on and come to my damn senses, I would have laughed in his face. I abandoned the trees, the gods of the forest, and turned away from the hateful glances of my own people to revel in my Master’s blossoming sexuality.  
Truly, in this, I was far more a virgin than Yukimura, having never known the heady delight of sincere affection un-poisoned by ulterior motives or the exchange of money. I gave myself to him, like a sacrifice, and my young Master accepted the gift without ever questioning the cost, simply loving me as only he could, as he loved Date. His kisses became more skillful and his fingers ever more adventurous and my armor lay untouched as I abandoned it for the soft cotton of borrowed kimonos and softer gentleness of his tongue.   
I was a disgrace to my people, no better than a common whore, and yet Yukimura never allowed a breath to cross his teeth without some sort of praise, adoration or protestation of love for me. Much as I tried to laugh his endless poetry away, there was some secret part of me that basked in it like a cat in the sun. I have no wit for lovers’ verse, and sarcasm has a tendency to run rather dry in a lover's bed, so I chose to reciprocate his feelings through the language of touch, with action, and our lessons grew ever more intense as a result.   
So it was that I came to be lying beneath him, legs spread around his hips like one of the cheap, dockside tavern-girls that Chosokabe always invites to his parties, trying not to wake the entire compound with my voice. At one point, the whole idea of being that way with another man, would have been horrifying. With my Master of all people, whom I had previously perceived as a silly, if unimaginably strong, child, the idea would have seemed purely ludicrous. The gods have a very sick sense of humor.  
As it was, the smooth whisper of his skin against the inside of my thighs was arousing enough for me to tolerate the position and, I confess, there was something desperately arousing about having him mounted that way against me. As perfectly awful as it might sound in this context, it actually wasn’t an unfamiliar position for us and I had a degree of comfort lying beneath his body that I certainly didn’t manage while sitting in his lap. Having him locked against me, couched between my legs, was basically a grappling guard; the dominant and most favorable position to be in when engaged in ground fighting. If I wanted, I could have put my Master into any number of joint locks, not to mention simply tearing out this throat with my teeth. In some strange way, I felt a little safer accepting his advances on my back like a lovesick farm maiden than I did in some of the other positions we explored.   
I’m a paranoid person, ninja are supposed to be. The creeping fear of what someone can do to you at any given time is what keeps my kind alive. So, I was not particularly perturbed by the idea that I could kill my much beloved Master in any number of colorful ways from the ground as he lay upon me, flushed with arousal and exploring my skin like a cartographer might a map. No, what scared me infinitely more was the icy heaviness that settled like a frozen stone in my belly at the mere thought of Yukimura hurt or saddened or ever, ever lost beyond my reach. By the gods, I loved him! The timbre of his voice, whispering hotly into my ear, the silken slide of his long, sepia hair against my bare shoulder, the perfect, slickened velvet of his penis against my own…I loved all of it more than I had loved anything else in my life, more than I loved the taste of fresh berries after a long winter or the cleansing scent of rain. 

“Sasuke! Oh! Sasuke, your’re so hot and you smell just like the forest…” Yukimura whispered, nuzzling my hair.

“I should be in the forest.” I sighed, the taught symphony of pleasure he was kindling in my nerves making me unusually honest.

“No! You should be here, with me, in my arms, forever.” Yukimura replied, the sharpness of his teeth against my shoulder more than ample reminder of how seriously he took the sentiment.

“I’m with you, Master.” I groaned, spreading my legs a little more in unspoken surrender.

He moved me, like the moon moves the ocean, and I was left biting my lips to keep from shrieking while grinding myself against my Master’s intimate body without any regard for propriety at all. He was getting increasingly more skilled and the motion of his hips against me was smooth and tempting, magnetic enough to fully capture my attention despite the way he was nibbling my ear. The elegant lines of his body and the consuming heat rising from his skin was captivating and I shiver to think that I ever imagined there could be some kind of resistance to my Master’s love. No one ever could resist Yukimura. Either in love or in battle, he was an unstoppable force, a phenomenon that swept away everything in his path, including petty nonsense like logic or prudence or law. My Master won regardless of the opponent. The very world buckled beneath him, just as I did. Nothing was immune, except for perhaps Date, and that is a questionable allowance at best. Though the Dragon Lord of Oshu occasionally managed to thwart my tiger on the field, I speak the truth when I say that Date was more than adequately humbled between the sheets.  
And the most spectacularly bizarre aspect of this, call it habit, Yukimura had of subjugating everything in sight, was that he did so with a kind of benevolent innocence that made even the most callous warlords offer up their surrender with a smile. In my case, however, a smile would have been paltry. I lay both my weapons and my body at his feet with an ecstatic cry, like the shameless slut I probably am. A typhoon is mindless despite its power and for many years that’s how I managed to come to terms with the way Yukimura cherished me, me of all people, as if I were the finest treasure in all the world. For a man like the Tiger of Kai to love a shiftless wreck of a human being like myself seems so unfair, but he did, truly and without any reservation at all.   
My Master held me gently, his powerful hands careful against my skin. By that point in our lessons my bruises were actually beginning to fade and almost heal without new ones to take their place, but my Master’s newfound delicacy only made me more acutely aware of my own vulnerability. Yukimura’s strength was inhuman. My Master could crush me if he embraced me too tightly while in the grips of a nightmare or maim me forever if he so much as used a fraction too much of his power in our love-play. Any sane person would have been terrified. As for myself, the echo of danger in my Master’s arms only served to excite me more. 

“Master..ugh…please…” I pleaded, only dimly aware of my own voice in the swirling warmth.

“Not yet, soon.” He promised and the smile in his voice made me moan. 

The firm, moist heat of his erection against my own was electric, a feeling deeper than simple pleasure and far more intoxicating. I was close already, dry tinder for the sparks he shed against me with each aching thrust. I moved against him, acutely aware of the tight ring his fingers made around our straining lengths, just enough pressure to make me justifiably insane with desire and unable to do much of anything more than whimper for mercy. Caught this way, trapped in the molten gravity of his rhythm with my shaft neatly collared, I was more than aroused enough to ejaculate, but held back from doing so. The maneuver was actually a ninja trick for gently extracting information from a bedmate and I sincerely pity all the poor idiots who have ever been subjected to it. He’d already been holding me for what felt like an era and the sheer, visceral frustration would have driven anyone else completely out of their mind.  
As it was, I was only marginally unhinged. Mad enough for the world to be nothing more than a hot blur pulsing idly with the same rhythm as my aching cock, but not quite to the point of biting off my own fingers. Yukimura purred into my ear and the sound seemed to settle into my skull, the tingling tone blending with the roaring pleasure of his touch into the sweetest kind of torment imaginable.   
One may ask how my virginal Master ever learned such a lewd skill in the first place and the answer is, of course, that I taught him. Why? Because I’m an idiot bent on subjecting myself to new and exciting modalities of torture. Also, I was rapidly reaching the limits of my own knowledge by that point and dipping into my shinobi seduction training for new material, which, in retrospect, was a truly horrible idea. Granted, the techniques were relatively benign, certainly nothing I would have ever expected to be cruel or uncomfortable, and I was desperate to find new distractions for him that didn’t involve my own deflowerment. Yukimura proved as eager a student of the carnal arts as he was of anything else and he learned too quickly for me to distract him with any one idea for more than a few days. Nonetheless, I’m still amazed at my own naiveté.   
If a few sly courtesans’ tricks were dangerous in my Master’s arsenal, my basic knowledge of ninjitsu driven erotic manipulation was positively devastating. A few optimistically vague lessons and I found myself in the clutches of a love-crazed Samurai who could force me to ejaculate whenever he wanted or turn me into a simpering wreck with a word. I pondered muzzily if I should write to Date and apologize in advance for the unholy sex-demon I would eventually be unleashing into his bed.   
Instead, I moaned, teeth almost chattering as another wave of pleasure surged through my helpless body. My Master slowly loosened his grip, guiding me against his own weeping erection with just the tips of his fingers as his fever-hot mouth found my nipple. The searing friction of him along my newly emancipated penis was enough make me lightheaded. Combined with the succulent slickness of his tongue against the swollen nub of my nipple, the sensation was enough to make me wonder if someone could, actually, die from sheer sexual overstimulation. 

“Master…” I groaned.

“You’re so warm, so soft and perfect, you’re burning me…” He whispered, giving my chest one final lick and moving to nuzzle my throat. 

“I…I…Oh my fucking...I can’t…” I rambled, squeezing my eyes closed. 

“Ah! Sasuke, cum for me! I can’t bear it!” He moaned into my ear, reaching low between us to cup my testicles.

The sound of his voice undid me as surely as the thrilling caress of his calloused fingers against the tender skin of my sack. The scent of Yukimura’s skin, like fine metal and mineral salt, was heady and I knew that my Master was on the edge of release as well, every muscle taught as he struggled to resist. Yukimura held me even as my scrotum contracted, turning against my cheek to plunge his scalding tongue fully into my mouth. We kissed often, almost every moment we were together, but the muscular feel of his tongue tangling wetly with my own was still enough to send a hard shiver through my body. The kindling heat inside my belly ignited, racing through my nerves, burning away everything except his touch. I’d love to say that I came silently, the intensity of my release evident only in the throbbing tension of my muscles and the tightness between my teeth, silent and perfectly controlled like the paragon of ninja supremacy I used to be.   
That, however, would be a lie. Instead, I moaned like a whore and then screamed something that may well have been my Master’s name before ejaculating in a burning gush over his hands. He shuddered, moaning at the heat of my seed dripping between us. 

“Master…” I panted, blinking in a vain effort to straighten my vision.

“Oh Sasuke! I love feeling your skin when you become tight here…” He stroked my sack and the spent testicles within, “When you’re ready to release I can feel them moving, your body is so amazing.”

“Master!” I hissed, blushing, “What a thing to say!”

“You’ve charged me to tell you the truth when we’re learning this way…” He chuckled, forehead comfortably damp against my own.

I scowled, or tried to. Actually, it’s is extremely difficult to scowl convincingly when a young, hopelessly besotted, demi-god has your genitals in his hands. I settled for moving into a slightly more vertical position, shoving him like a recalcitrant horse off of my hips so I could raise my shoulders. He moved easily at the touch, but not far, hands trembling with some unspoken want. I swallowed, feeling vulnerable and still uncomfortably aroused despite my release, breathing a bit too quickly. Yukimura watched me for a moment and bent to kiss my lips, the touch soft, questioning and completely at odd with the roaring passion in his amber-brown eyes. The limpid portals were nearly filled by the black of his pupils, the hunger within them enough to swallow all the light in the room. My mouth went dry. I already knew what he was going to say, I’d known for weeks, but the words hit me like a blow nonetheless.

“Sasuke,” He murmured, nuzzling my nose with his own, “May I touch you…on the inside?”

I swallowed, trembling with both fear and desire, my throat too tight to speak. Gods, on the inside, the inside, just like Date had touched him, and the act had just looked so…intimate. I briefly considered simply letting my over-worked nervous system have its way, giving in to the darkness pulsing at the edges of my vision. Fainting like a cloistered girl at the threat of penetrative sex is unmanly to say the least, but he unmade me in so many other ways that acting womanish was the least of my concerns. In my defense, he was the very portrait of his namesake that night, crouching at his ease between my thighs with his cheeks flushed, shoulders bunching in an obvious effort not to simply devour me whole. The Tiger of Kai, still a cub, was ten times more ferocious than any of the poor, jungle beasts from which he drew the name. 

“Inside…touch me inside?” I managed, feeling my belly quiver with the implication.

Yukimura nodded, pressing a volley of tiny, almost pleading kisses against my jaw. I swallowed again and tried very hard not to hyperventilate. Something kicked around inside the lower part of my belly and for a moment I wondered if my body was trying to ejaculate again or simply vomit. I wasn’t ready. By all the gods, is anyone ever ready? I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything about the custom other than the bare clinical facts leftover from my far, far, too brief ninja education on the subject. A footnote about the weirdness of Samurai sexual practices in the setting of a tactical seduction curriculum is not sufficient to prepare for such an unbelievable eventuality. Yukimura looked at me and I almost giggled. Accepting him into my body was what I had chosen, chosen for myself, with full and complete knowledge of what the act would entail and there was absolutely no point feeling squeamish about it now.   
I regained enough composure to remain conscious and opened my legs another fraction for him in wordless invitation. My Master moved more firmly against me, accepting the extra inches of space, but his posture was still hesitant. I was terrified, more so than I have been since I was a child, but there is a stubbornness to my character too and it was that trait more than any other which prompted me to pull Yukimura against my chest that night. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded to him, my burning face flush against his cheek so he could feel the commitment of it along with the heat of my embarrassment. He took a breath, licked his lips and closed his eyes, the small muscles in his jaw twitching with some unspoken eagerness. The feel of him, the sheer knowledge of what was about to happen, made my heart tremble like a rabbit in a snare. A knock sounded outside the door accompanied by the soft voice of one of the Kai maids.  
Thankfully, I managed to avoid shrieking or squealing or any other completely ludicrous outcry, but it was a near thing. Instead, I startled hard enough to nearly throw him from my body and as my heart stuttered to a halt in my chest. As a servant in my own right, I know that we always have the worst timing. Or perhaps the best, depending upon the situation. I couldn’t decide if the girl had just saved me or if I was still in the middle of dying anyway. 

“Master…” I gasped, not entirely sure what I wanted to convey. 

Yukimura held a finger to his lips, clearly hoping that she would just go away. Servants don’t go knocking on the doors of royal bedchambers if they can avoid it so I already knew that my Masters’ attempt as feigning sleep or absence or whatever wasn’t going to work. Besides, everyone knew that if Yukimura wasn’t training he was either sleep or reading, both of which he did in his room in addition to his other, newer, pastimes.

“Lord Yukimura-sama. Supper is prepared.” The little maid called meekly.

“Thank you, but I’ll dine later!” Yukimura replied, looking guilty.

“Lord…there is a letter from Oshu.” 

Well, that did it. If the obstacle were mountains, rivers or even oceans, my Master would not have hesitated, but a few pages of Date’s horrible hand-writing was more than sufficient. A dozen feelings chased eachother across my Master’s face, not the least of which was irritation, but he was nothing if not unfailingly polite. In the space of three or four of my own frantic heartbeats, Yukimura composed his expression, cleaned his hands on the damp towels set aside for that purpose and flashed me a ravenous look that clearly implied he was not finished with our lesson.   
Blissfully unaware of my conflicted feelings, my Master smiled apologetically and tied his yukata closed. He stood with a martial smoothness that belied the tension still crackling in the graceful posture of his hands and pulled the sweaty strands of his hair into a decent-looking tail. Thus composed, he strode to the door as if we had simply been reading over strategy or discussing the weather.

“Lord…?” The voice called again, trembling just a little.

“One moment, please.” Yukimura replied, his tone soft and friendly.

I was impressed he could speak at all given what we’d just been doing and the fire still roaring in his eyes. I swallowed, rolling to the side and hunting vainly for something to wear while my sex-addled brain tried to comprehend what exactly I had just been spared from and whether or not I was relieved. Yukimura nodded to the maid and retrieved the tray she had brought up for us, which was set just outside the door. The kitchen now sent food for me whenever they made meals of Yukimura, which was thoughtful in a stupid kind of way, since doing so made it infinitely easier to poison me. My people love poisons. The tactic is clean, effective and very difficult to trace. If I were trying to kill the sex-pet of a Samurai, poison would certainly be the tool I would use and if the Lordling died too, well, people got sick from bad fish all the time. For this reason, our meals made me anxious. I don’t remember exactly when I started compulsively tasting every damn thing that came into our shadowy little love-den, but if my Master died from a botched poisoning meant for me, well…needless to say I would never forgive myself.   
Yukimura brought the tray over and set it by the fire pit. I already knew that our activities, such as they were, would be postponed until after supper, so I went through the effort of smoothing my hair and washing. Food was one of those special things that even my young, frustrated, amorous Master would delay our carnal activities to appropriately enjoy. He said that doing anything else was disrespectful to the chef and letting something delicious and hot go cold was dishonorable. While I’ve eaten plenty enough cold rations to know that our chef found Yukimura’s attitude charming and childish, I couldn’t very well argue the merit of hot meal when I never knew which one would be my last.   
With a breath, I scrubbed the sweat from my face and the semen from my belly, taking the precious time offered by the actions to strategize. My hair was too long to simply sweep back behind my ears anymore and too short to easily pull into a tail, which vexed me when I had enough space left in my overworked mind to care. I settled for tying the top half of it up and leaving the bottom to fall over my shoulders. I hadn’t cut my hair or set my feet upon a tree branch or hurled a kunai for what felt like an eternity and my body was slow and sore from inactivity. If one of the better nin came to finish me now, I wondered if I would even be able to fight them off. The thought was not a particularly appealing one.   
Yukimura was already laying out the dishes when I finally managed to compose myself enough to do something other than pant like an over-warm hound under his sheets. I pulled on a yukata and stood to join him, meeting my Master’s glance almost sheepishly. Another man would have been angry to be interrupted or perhaps simply act brusque and irritable. Yukimura, however, made each moment its own reward. Despite being young, eager and full with semen, he seemed almost…tranquil. Looking at him there, kneeling in front of the low table and setting out the plates of food as if all of this were the most natural thing in the world, unhinged me a little. He seemed so calm and so…so uncannily happy. It was simply bizarre.  
My hands were still shaking, my organs knotting around themselves with dread or nerves or desire or something new and completely worse and more inexplicable than the others. I loved him. I sort of knew that I did and I was almost ready to surrender. Almost, but, I found to be infinite dismay, not quite ready enough for that. Anal sex was not something ninja did, at least not unless someone paid very handsomely for the privilege and then the act was work, a task, divorced from a shinobi’s worth. This was not work, this was like what Kasuga did, but approximately one thousand, million times worse. Yukimura smiled at me. I swallowed and glanced away like the coward I am. I’d sworn to stay with him, to give myself to him. I’d already promised him that he could…could…A promise was a promise. I tried to simply accept the truth of it, but as anyone who reads this must have realized by now, the truth is very difficult for me. I was left stalling, wondering if there might be another way to keep my word as well as my virginity if I could just think straight. 

“Sasuke, are you alright? You look a little pale…” Yukimura asked, brows knitting with concern. 

“Tired…” I whispered and gave him what I hoped was a relatively convincing smile. 

I wasn’t actually tired. I couldn’t even imagine sleeping knowing that he was ready to have me and that the impulse was currently held at bay only by the bumbling of an overzealous maid servant and the prospect of hot food. My Master knelt, trying not to look impatient and failing. Our chef had made one of his favorite dishes, steamed pork buns made from meat barbequed overnight in plum sauce, and I could tell he was excited to eat. The dish was slavish to prepare and usually chef couldn’t keep Yukimura out of the roast pork long enough to get the meat out of the pit, much less into an artfully prepared bun. I chuckled. The fact that the servants of Kai household were taking full advantage of me as a convenient distraction for my Master was simply too ironic.   
As soon as I seated myself, Yukimura clapped his hands together in thanks and reached for one of the fluffy little meat buns artfully arranged next to some dumplings by his teacup. Swift as a viper, I slapped his hand and snatched the bun to my own mouth, taking a bite before he could grab it back.

“Sasuke, is all that really necessary?” Yukimura whined, golden brown eyes following the bun like a starving kitten.

“Yes.” I said, debating the merits of digging some of the pork out of the middle of the bun too just to be sure.

“Let me assure you, once again, that none of the other lords would resort to something as banal as poison. Such a thing is intolerably crude, dishonorable and using that tactic so would make them a target for the righteous wrath the other kingdoms.” Yukimura explained, sighing melodramatically, hand held out in anticipation of when I finally decided to give him back his food. 

“Ninja use poison all the time, Master. Lord Shingen employs me to go to places and do things that Samurai cannot, or will not, do. Poisoning definitely falls into that category. Just because the other Lords would never allow themselves to be caught in such a plot, does not mean they wouldn’t pay someone else to do it.” I grumbled, wondering if the quivering in my belly was impending death or just indigestion.

“Have you poisoned someone before?” My Master asked, looking faintly aghast. I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, many times.” I replied, nibbling from every other piece of food while I had him distracted.

Despite common belief, most of the finer, tasteless, poisons act fairly slowly and require days of careful dosing to be used effectively. The benefit of something like arsenic or laudanum is that the person appears to gradually sicken, as if from natural causes, and even if the poison is withdrawn, the mark will usually still die if enough has already been ingested. However, these same substances are rarely used in assassinations performed by ninja and tend to remain the domain of squabbling princes, ambitious courtesans and justifiably vengeful, second wives. The drugs are expensive and large quantities need to be given. Many of the most elegant, insidious poisons have ready antidotes and the assassin has to be with the mark, in close company, for months on end for any of them to work without someone else intervening. No, if my people chose to end my dishonor this way, it would be swift and probably exceedingly painful. My throat and lips weren’t numb or burning and my stomach actually felt a little better with the food instead of what I would expect from a toxin.   
I nodded to Yukimura and handed back the bun with an apologetic kiss against his hand to help chase away the slightly horrified expression on his face. My poor Master, he was such an excellent person himself; the idea I might not be always surprised him a little. I could tell he disapproved of my previous methods of killing people and by the time he asked the question, I actually found I had enough reserve to lie convincingly.

“Sasuke…have you ever poisoned people for Kai?” He asked in a whisper, chewing the meat bun somberly.

“Of course not, Master.” I lied. 

“I apologize for even asking. I have dishonored you!” Yukimura cried, bending low over his knees.

“Not at all, Master. Please stop that.” I said with a sigh, sipping his tea.

“I think that if, if you were taken from me by poison...” Yukimura shuddered, “Oh Sasuke, my warrior spirit would be shattered! The mast of my ship broken! My spear made kindling! The column of my being would crumble!”

“So you’d be sexually frustrated? Oh, Master, as if there aren’t remedies for that…” I chuckled archly.

“My heart would never heal!” He cried, eyes closed tight and quivering with actual, impending tears.

I was silent at that. The most damnable thing about Samurai is that in one breath they can be so completely ridiculous and in the next, so frighteningly perceptive. Instead of speaking, and therefore coughing up another lie from the black depths of my worthless, liar’s, heart, I tapped his nose with a finger. The tap was hard enough to bruise most people, but Yukimura just blinked, a little startled. I caught his eyes and smiled in the way my old seductions instructor had taught me. 

“Have you ever seen a really good courtesan pour tea?” I asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Well, there was that very cultured lady three years ago, she seemed extremely knowledgeable…” My Master said, blushing hotly and looking faintly ill.

Oh. Right. Lord’s Shingen’s extremely ill-fated attempt to educate my Master in the ways of sexuality with the courtesan. I tried not to wince. Well, yes, she most certainly would have served tea among other things. Since most adult, conscious, people on the planet find a gorgeous woman using the excuse of pouring hot beverages to rub her breasts on your arm or show off her pretty nails to be rather fetching. Yukimura, however, was not most people. 

“Yes,” I purred, “But, she was only a reasonably good courtesan, not excellent…”

“Oh?” Yukimura breathed, the pork bun suddenly sitting forgotten on the dinner tray.

I had his attention, which was the whole goal, so I decided to show off a little. I set his teacup onto the table and tipped my sleeve up with the most delicate touch of my finger, exposing my wrist and forearm. My Master’s attention was rapt, almost predatory, focused with perfect focus on the place where my hand met my arm. I let my fingers come together, the movement almost feminine, but with the dual purpose of showing the musculature in my forearm. The motion of my hand was like a petal on the wind, drifting towards where the squat, cast-iron teapot stood on its little tripod. I tipped my hand up, just as I had been taught to do so many winters ago, and heard my Master’s breath catch in his throat.

“Tea,” I purred, “As you know. Can be an art all by itself…”

“Sasuke…” He murmured, eyes practically aglow.

I chuckled softly, low in my throat. His gaze followed as I lifted the teapot, letting my wrist bend gracefully and my fingers curl to show off their length. Generally, this sort of thing is much more effective when a woman does it because ladies like to have long, artfully painted nails and soft, delectable palms. However, even a ninja with calloused fingers and brittle nails can put on a good show if he knows how, which I did. I knew how to angle the blade of my hand in the firelight to make the motion look faintly sexual, how to grip the handle with my fingers to leave my thumb and first finger poised and free; the same way it would be if I was holding his erection. My Master swallowed hard. Moving my arm from the elbow made the motion look smooth, elegant, like a serpent moving at his ease through a garden.  
Yukimura was completely transfixed. In fact, I could tell he was trying very hard not to simply seize me, tear the clothing from my body, and ravish me on the spot. Instead, he clenched and unclenched his fists and reached for the bun again, content just to watch for the time being. I tipped the spout down, allowing the steam to roll out into the teacup, curling thickly into the air and up over my fingers before the liquid itself spilled like a sigh into the cup. Yukimura was watching like a cat watches a fly, eating his food almost mechanically, eyes hooded and dark with lust.   
Tea poured, I tucked my sleeve away with a flourish and leaned forward at the waist, using the strength of my core instead of my arms and allowing the kimono to fall open at the neck in the process. My Master’s eye darted to the exposed rise of my chest and then back to my hands, a hard blush coming to his face. This was something almost familiar, something I had trained for and sort of knew how to do, but his gaze made me feel self-conscious anyway. I took a breath to keep my fingers from quivering and lifted the cup. Stabilizing it with the tips of my fingers, I shuffled a bit on my knees, turning, not as gracefully as the woman who had taught me could, but decently enough. I set the porcelain cup before him with an artful little bow that probably was sort of silly looking, but served my purposes nonetheless.

“See, Master. Even something like tea can be…an invitation.” I whispered.

“Oh, Sasuke…” He purred, “You are so artful! I have much to learn despite all you’ve taught me already! You are a most excellent sensei…and your invitation is one I would accept.” 

I don’t know if it was the reminder that on some level he still viewed our relationship as being one of teacher and student, or simply the rare opportunity to actually act in that capacity, but an idea suddenly lit itself in my brain. My Master wanted to go further, deeper as it were, and I couldn’t really see myself denying him much longer. A few moments ago I might have given in, true. Now, however…now that I had enough space to think, I discovered that I wasn’t really ready. The last shred of my masculinity was not something I was eager to part with, not tonight at least. No need to rush these sorts of things, certainly not while there were still ample opportunities for new and more interesting methods of humiliation. Yukimura would like oral sex and a mouth was still a hole, afterall. I thought the whole idea was rather clever, actually, so much so that I wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me before.

“My invitation…” I breathed, mulling the idea over in my mind and trying not to blush, “…May not be what you have in mind.” 

My Master raised an eyebrow, intrigued by both the coyness and the promise of new sexual frontiers. I swallowed, nervous. His reaction was just as I hoped, maybe even better. I liked the notion of a bit more control, but this would be a first for me as well, something well beyond what I had ever thought about doing with another man. Not that Yukimura needed to know that.

“Oh, what do I have in mind?” Yukimura asked, smiling almost hungrily.

“Something you’ve already experienced,” I replied, just a tad tartly, “Thoroughly, I might add, and without my help.” 

Yukimura was taken aback by my tone, his posture instantly uncertain. I felt a nasty little thrill of victory at the knowledge that I had actually managed to needle him with the total unfairness of our situation. The intention was petty, but I was tired of being the only one who ever felt weak or jealous. I already knew my Master didn’t feel that way; such crude thoughts were probably beneath him. He was nothing if not perfectly sincere and respectful at all times. It was the same reason I loved him, of course, idiot that I am.

“This would be something different.” I added, more gently.

“Well, Sasuke, your cleverness has no limits. I am at your disposal.” Yukimura replied softly, bowing a little as if in apology.

I felt immediately chastised, but I’ve been a ninja long enough to mask my reactions fairly well and I didn’t want to lose momentum now that I’d made up my mind. There are so many important things in life that I have no talent for: friendship, honesty and calligraphy to name just a few, but I am always surprised at the ease with which I can manipulate sex. Yukimura was the only lover I have ever lain with who could take away my control, who could surprise me, who could make the act feel like something other than a paltry kabuki drama. As I rolled my shoulders to capture my young Master’s attention again, I wondered if I should have been born a whore. I would have been a good one, but the thought was not particularly soothing. Once his eyes were upon me, I settled back into my seduction training easily with a breathy chuckle. 

“Then I will teach you something new, my Master.” I replied and pulled the little ties on the inside of my borrowed kimono loose.

He made a sound, a sort of feline rumble that echoed through his chest and out into the warm air of the bedroom. The echo of the noise moved through my flesh, resonating in my belly, warming me and making something deep in my soul ache. I took a breath and reminded myself that now, for the first time in what felt like an age, I was in control of what would happen next. I was the sensei in this, at least for the time being, and I had a plan. The inevitable was inevitable, but I was no stranger to the subtle art of procrastination. My Master had never actually specifically mentioned where he wanted to enter me after all and one opening in a man’s body was probably as good as another, especially since I already knew he had a kink for my mouth.   
I conjured in my mind that last truly pleasing oral liaison I’d had and tried to remember the exact approach with which the girl had angled her chin. We were both on our knees, which one might have thought would make the whole thing easier. One would be wrong. As if turns out, my judgement of distance is significantly better when hurling weapons than when trying to lean my face into a perfectly stationary lap. I tried to melt artfully from a seated position onto my belly with the notion of untying his kimono with my teeth…which would have been perfectly lovely if I hadn’t ended up running my nose into his navel instead. Yukimura giggled a little, not really the desired effect.  
Irritated, I gave up on the notion of nosing around blindly in favor of hooking one finger into his belt and tugging. Catching my meaning, Yukimura loosened the knot that holding the garment in place and leaned back slightly onto his elbows, watching curiously. Feeling slightly mollified, I pressed a kiss to the silk draping the smooth plane of his lower belly and was rewarded with a tremor in the muscles below.

“Sasuke, what will you do?” Yukimura asked, face flushed and a little breathless.

“I will teach you another use for the lips beyond those barbarian kisses you like so much and…I will take you into my body as promised, my Master.” I replied, a little breathlessly.

Yukimura’s pupils dilated, huge and black in his eyes. Before he could ask any more questions, I finally managed to catch one of the ties for his kimono in my mouth. Resisting the urge to hiss in victory, I pulled, revealing the warm, smooth, scarred skin and rippled muscle of my Master’s body. By that point there was certainly something inarguably wrong with me, because the very scent of him made me half-hard with ardor. Gently, I eased his legs apart to make a little more room for my shoulders, enjoying the gasp of startled arousal escaping his lips. Yukimura was bare and hard and intimidatingly bigger than he’d seemed in our play earlier. I swallowed.

“Sasuke…are you really…well…Is this something you feel comfortable with?” Yukimura asked, sounding excited and also about as incredulous as I felt.

“Indeed, my Master. I will teach you.” I replied, trying to sound fetching instead of just anxious.

There are many whores in certain regions of the world who make sucking on a man's penis look like the easiest and most natural thing in the world. Since I'd enjoyed such artful efforts in the past, I imagined, wrongly, that the act couldn't possibly be too difficult, like eating dango or munching a cucumber or any number of other completely innocuous things…except that it wasn’t. This was the kind of sex that only the most adventurous of my prostitutes had been interested in pursuing and not for anything less than generous coin at that. I licked my lips and looked at Yukimura’s manhood, at the velvety skin flushed almost cherry colored and the glittering moisture gathering in a heavy bead at the sloping tip. I looked at how he tapered, bulbous at the swollen head and then ever thicker towards the root. By the gods, at his base, the ring of my thumb and finger would barely encircle him! I licked my lips and tried not to perform calculations for diameter in my head…it turned out to be a very bad idea.  
Right, of course, I would just be magically imbued with the ability to suck cock like a gilded courtesan. Yes, I recognize that it’s silly. Add on the notion that all of this was supposed to be some sort of escape and the situation becomes truly ridiculous, but I was determined. My Master’s desires would be indulged, my much abused ninja honor would get a reprieve and the promise would still be kept. Everything would be perfect.   
Of course, I had never actually tried to do anything like swallow another man's cock, because, well, really who would unless they had some extremely compelling, non-negotiable reason. That being said, keeping Yukimura happy, satisfied and distracted from my other, more intimate orifices for the moment seemed plenty compelling enough. After one or two experimental licks, which I tried to make look coy instead of just awkward or terrified, I took him in and tried to swallow my Master down my throat, as I’d seen several pretty, and less than reputable, ladies do at least a hundred times. Of course, the second his erection hit the back of my throat I promptly gagged in a way that could never be contrued as intentional and certainly not graceful.  
“Sasuke, is it alright?” Yukimura whispered shyly, belly trembling.  
"You’re big..." I muttered sullenly as a way of excusing my inability to perform decent oral sex. 

At that, Yukimura smiled hugely, grinning like a cat that’d just been offered a piece of sushi. Trying not to glare, I started with my lips instead, massaging the firm head and trying to get a sense for how the shape of it would go in. He was firm, pliable and almost elastic against my mouth, interesting in a way I never could have anticipated. The texture, soft and solid at that same time, was enticing and totally different from anything feminine. I licked him, a little surprised at how pleasurable the sensation of his warm, musky pre-cum smeared over my palate could be. The skin of his penis, which was soft in my hands, was somehow softer still against my tongue and complex. He moaned and another bead of moisture gathered at his tip. I liked the salt of it and began sucking gently to encourage more of the masculine nectar dripping from the narrow fount. He moaned, the sound almost a sob.   
I was hard by then, achingly so, nearly dizzy with the rush of it. My Master’s breath hitched and I glanced up to see him almost panting, cheeks alight and eyes fixed to me like rivets pressed into leather armor. My mouth was full with him and the weight of his penis against my tongue was almost succulent; heavy the way a ripe peach is upon the branch of a tree. The act was sensual in a way I had never imagined and a hungry moan rose through my chest to vibrate around the engorged flesh in my mouth.

“Ugh…Sasuke…!” Yukimura cried, tipping his head back.

My eyes flickered up to him, captivated. His back was arched, one hand thrust out behind him for stability in a desperate kind of way, like a man trying to steady himself against a gale. The folds of the kimono draped around his body looked so artful, like rain-soaked flower petals or gauzy clouds. He was gorgeous. Lovely and supple like a young tree, but so densely muscled that, drawn taught as he was before me, his body looked almost like braided steel. Our indoor proclivities had allowed his skin grow pale and as gorgeous as he was fully cast in the gold of a summer tan, the winter pallor was almost twice as lovely. I gazed upon him and was seized with the temptation to take hold of myself and stroke to completion with his beauty in my eyes and the hardness of his erection in my mouth. The force of the desire roaring through me startled me a little and then his powerful hand was against my skull, tangled in my over-long hair, mindlessly pressing me down onto his erection.   
To this day, I’m not sure if I had been trying to cough, or speak or swallow my own spittle, but my palate softened and somehow my throat angled to accept him almost subconsciously. As easily as a sword slides into its sheath, Yukimura’s shaft was down my throat and half-way to my gullet. Almost immediately, I was wracked by the image of a stork swallowing a herring fish, which is not particularly sexy, but I didn’t choke. I was probably too aroused or perhaps it was something about the way we were moving. He thrust in me, in and out, my nosed pressed into the soft dampness of the curled hair around his base. He was big, and long, and the fact that the damn thing actually fit was more than a little disconcerting.   
The slide of him across my tongue was stimulating, carnal and surprisingly intricate. Every ridge and vein brushing over me, more defined with each thrust, with the deeper sensation of him agaisnt my palate was…well, it was indescribable, actually. I took a startled breath through my nose and felt my stomach buck, but I was held as firmly against him as a tree rooted into the Earth. I think it was this last realization that finally shook me from the trance of our exotic depravity and an inkling of panic speared through me.   
My throat tightened to reject him and my Master cried out with his release. Suddenly I was gagging, my mouth and windpipe full of startlingly warm, bitter, slippery ejaculate. I reared back, my foolish body trying to decide whether it should swallow or cough or vomit or perhaps attempt all three simultaneously. I’d tasted his cum before, so it was not the flavor that startled me so much as the shocking heat of it and the cloying way it filled my mouth and throat. Yukimura’s hand released me so that I could at least manage to get his penis out of my mouth before I heaved his cum up all over both of us. Thankfully, nothing quite so humiliating happened.   
After a moment of less than attractive flailing, I swallowed it and shuddered at the thick slide of the essence down my throat. I licked my lips, feeling shaken, but still terribly aroused. My Master was petting my hair with trembling fingers, panting as if he’d run a great distance.

“Gods…Sasuke…” He gasped, shaking his head, “Where do you learn these things?”

“I’ve had a colorful life, Master.” I replied, bringing my knuckles up to wipe vainly at some of the semen still dripping from my lips.

“Indeed, my kestrel. You are a bird of many-colored feathers.” My Master said, voice low and warm and almost a snarl.

He intercepted my fingers and brought the droplets of glittering fluid to his own lips, sucking my knuckles into his mouth. I gasped. Instead of sated, he looked almost fierce, golden-brown eyes fixed to my damp face like twin coals. I swallowed again, wincing at the subtle rawness in my throat; oral sex is actually much harder than it looks, after all. My Master watched me, unflinching, and I could not for the life of me understand what had incensed him so. His eyes were too hard, his teeth clenched and jaw twitching. The pressure against my fingers was bruising, not enough to break the bones, but more than ample to indicate that he was acting thoughtlessly. Yukimura was very clearly aroused, but possessive too, almost angry. 

“Master…” I whispered breathlessly, “Are you…displeased?”

The question seemed to startle him. He blinked, instantly drawn from the mysterious depths of whatever emotion had gripped him before. With a cough, he released my hand, looking away. I rubbed my fingers, wondering if Yukimura would be more distraught seeing the bruises or if wearing a glove for the next few days would be worse. 

“No! Not at all!” He exclaimed, cupping my cheek.

“Then…did I hurt you?” I asked hesitantly, worried.

“No!!! No, Sasuke, I…I am simply a fool. Forgive me. I was so surprised by your skill, but the intensity of your knowledgeable love-making…I couldn’t keep from wondering how you learned to do something so…so unique.” He muttered, abashed. 

Oh, so it was jealousy. I almost sighed with relief. Jealousy was easy, something I already knew how to counter. 

“Unlike some people, I am capable of learning something from a book.” I lied, crossing my arms with an exaggerated huff.

“Then…you mean…” Yukimura asked, eyes large in his heated face.

“I’ve never done anything like that with a man. Never.” I sighed, irritated. 

“Then…this was?”

“A first for both of us.” I replied, nodding. 

The truth felt light on my tongue, but it is not a sensation I am accustomed to. I had never planned to tell him how new, how significant this was for me and the thought made me blush. Yukimura fidgeted a moment, stroking my cheek. He wanted to apologize, grandly. I could tell. I didn’t want an apology, not now. He was jealous, but whatever I was seemed so much worse.

“Sasuke…” He began. 

“Master…” I whispered breathlessly, “Wasn’t there a letter?”

Oh, yes. The letter. The very same letter from the hands of his Samurai lover. Thank the gods one of us remembered. The mere mention of Date’s words brought a brilliant smile to my Master’s face and, even well on my way to a good sulk, I couldn’t help feeling warmed by the expression. Yukimura practically quivered with delight at the reminder that the Dragon of Oshu’s words lay only a few handbreadths away on the dinner try. I narrowly resisted rolling my eyes as he turned and began shoving the dishes aside in his haste to open the scroll. My honor in tatters, my hand newly decorated with bruises, and he was the one who got to be jealous while I was left feeling even more rattled than usual. Life isn’t fair. Sighing, I reached for my own teacup. I planned to wash my mouth out with Takeda’s nicest tea, spit it with Yukimura’s cum into the snow, and then call for sake with every intention to drink myself senseless before the night was through. Even ninja have limits.

“Sasuke!” Yukimura cried, leaping to his feet.

“What?” I snapped, jabbing a finger into my ear and hunting around for more hot water.

“Date! Date, the Lord of Oshu! Date Masamune!” He shouted, holding the letter in trembling fingers.

“I know who he is.” I sighed, abandoning the tea to put the other finger into my ear unprotected ear.

“He’s coming! He is coming to Kai! Our fateful meeting, Sasuke! The rendezvous of our souls, the twining of our spirits, the clash of our most mighty intentions in a single act…”

“Right, I know. You’re going to fuck him.” I said, reaching for the teapot again.

“In less than a week! Sasuke, I stand so unprepared!” Yukimura cried.

“You’ll be fine.” I chuckled, feeling a bit surprised myself.

The letter, which I kept for reasons I don’t yet understand, read thusly:

My Tiger,  
Too many days have passed since I felt the sharpness of your claws and my wounds heal and threaten to scar. I cannot abide for your mark upon me to fade, nor can I forget the spice of your flavor upon my tongue. The bite of your steel is strong, but the desire you stir in me stronger still. Such succulent madness you cause me, hiding in your den, oh striped cat. I would feel your sinuous power. Take me in your jaws and wound me again. I cannot resist and I am too eager to wait! A few foolish obligations to complete and I will at last have my freedom to hunt again. I come for you in six days’ time, my most beloved rival, at the next fullness of the moon. I am full as well and ready to be plundered. 

\--------------Date, Oshu

Now, several arguments could be made about what exactly is wrong with Date Masamune and how he managed to acquire the condition, but those thoughts were far from my mind. I was fully occupied with the vision of the One-Eyed Dragon clasped in my Master’s arms, occupying the same place on the futon where I currently rested. The image speared me and I could hardly judge Date for his affinity for wounds.   
I’d always known that there would be some kind of end point, a conclusion to at least this phase of our depravity, but who could have known it would come so soon? With Date in his arms, my Master would finally be able to consummate his ultimate desires and as for me, well, the truth was I didn’t really know. Yukimura wouldn’t discard me, I already knew him well enough to know that his affection for me wouldn’t wane so easily, but everything would be different. I couldn’t help worry about what Date would think. I didn’t know if the Dragon would be so accommodating, if the hotheaded samurai lord my Master so adored would prefer to have me in a shallow grave instead of his own lover’s bed. The thought hurt, but I’d already had more of Yukimura than I deserved.

“To have Date before me, to have him in my arms once more…” Yukimura collapsed onto his knees with a sigh.

“Just do as you’ve learned, my Master.” I whispered, a little shaken. 

“Oh, by the gods, do I dare?!!!” Yukimura exclaimed, pressing Date’s letter to his chest.

“Well, Master, if you don’t I think he may actually kill you this time.” I replied pithily.

“Death in the arms of my beloved dragon…it is an honor beyond my wildest aspirations!” He sighed, flopping onto the futon the same way he had as a child imagining great battles.

Shaking my head, I turned the little porcelain cup over to pour my tea and felt my blood run cold as a tiny silver bell tumbled out from beneath the vessel and onto the saucer. The bell tinkled softly, musical and very resonant and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard it before now. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. 

“Sasuke?” My Master asked.

My mouth was dry. I couldn’t answer him. There was no way for Yukimura to know what such a thing might mean, but I knew. I knew all too well and the knowledge sat like ice in my veins. All ninja hate bells. 

“Sasuke, what’s wrong?” Yukimura asked, moving to my side, “You’re completely white!”

I blinked, trying to think of some way I could explain it to him without explaining it to him, without telling him that the bell was the same to me as a severed finger or an eyeball torn from its socket. That it was a death sentence, as clear and sinister as letters cut into the bark of an oak or a letter written in blood. My people knew. They knew and didn’t care if there was something else to absolve me. The order to bring me to justice had been given already.


End file.
